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LONDON, April 4.

The Central Criminal Court was again filled to its utmost capacity this morning, when the trial of the Marquis of Queensberry for libelling Mr. Oscar Wilde was resumed. All the windows in the court were wide open, but even this did not suffice to clear away the stuffy atmosphere which always seems to pervade the building. The public galleries were filled with persons having privilege passes, and these, it was understood, consisted almost entirely of friends of the parties in the case.

Mr. Wilde entered the court at a quarter-past 10, and taking his seat at the end of the solicitors' table, engaged in an animated conversation with Mr. Charles Mathews, one of his counsel. Some few minutes later Mr. Carson and Mr. Gill, who appeared for the defendant, made their way to the counsel's seat. They were 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 yesterday. He was again attired in a dark blue overcoat, and carried in his hand his small felt hat. Mr. Justice Henn Collins, the judge, took his seat at 10.30. He was accompanied by Mr. Sheriff Samuel and several Aldermen.

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 Queensbury; Mr. Besley, Q.C., with Mr. Monckton, watching the proceedings on behalf of Lord Douglas of Hawick, the eldest son of the Marquis.

Mr. Oscar Wilde again went, into the witness-box, and his cross-examination by Mr. Carson was continued. Replying to questions, witness said he had continued on intimate terms with Taylor down to the present time, and it was he who arranged the interview with Wood relating to the letters at Great College-street. He used to visit witness at his house, his chambers, and at the Savoy. Witness used to go to afternoon tea-parties at Taylor's lodgings. He did not know whether he did his own cooking, but there would be nothing wrong in that.

Mr. Carson: Have I suggested anything wrong? No, but cooking is an art. Another art? Yes. Were the rooms luxurious? The place was furnished with more than usual taste. Was it not luxurious? No, I said in good taste. I thought them most pretty rooms.

Witness denied that day and night the rooms were lighted with candles and gas, and that heavy double curtains were always drawn over the windows.

Were the rooms strongly perfumed? Yes; I have known him to burn perfumes in his rooms. I burn perfumes in my rooms.

Did you see Wood there at tea? No; except on the occasion referred to. I have seen Sydney Mavor there. He was a friend of mine, but I have not the remotest idea where he is now. Have you had any communication with him? Yes; last Sunday I got Taylor to go to his mother's house to say I wanted to see him. He was not there, and I don't know where he is. Were you told he has disappeared within the last week? No; I heard he was away. Have you found him since ? What do you mean by finding him? I object to the phrase. I have not seen him since. Answering further questions, witness said he had never seen Taylor wearing a lady's fancy costume. He had sent telegrams to Taylor. He had no business with him. Was he a literary man? He was a young man of great taste and intelligence, educated at a very good public school.

Did you discuss literary matters with him? He used to listen on the subject.

And get an intellectual treat also? Certainly. Witness said he never got him to arrange dinners for him. He had never seen Fred Atkins at Taylor's, and did not know that Taylor was being watched by the police at his rooms. He knew that Taylor and Parker, whom he also knew, were last year arrested at a house in Fitzroy-square. He had seen Parker in Taylor's rooms subsequently occupied in Chapel-street. Taylor had introduced to witness about five young men, with whom he had become friendly. He liked the society of young men.

Had any of them any occupation? That I can hardly say. Did you give money to each? Yes; I should think to all five-money or presents. Did they give you anything? Me? No. Among the five was Charles Parker? Oh, yes. Was he a gentleman's servant out of employment? I never heard that, nor should I have minded. How old was Parker? I don't keep a count. He was young, and that was one of his attractions. I have never asked him his age. I think it is rather vulgar to do so, (Laughter.) Was he an educated man? Culture was not his strong point. (Laughter.) Did you ask what his previous occupation was? I never inquire about people's pasts. (Laughter.) Nor their future? Oh, that is a public matter. (Laughter.) Did you become friendly with Parker's brothers? They were my guests at table. Did you know that one was a gentleman's valet and the other a gentleman's groom? I did not know it, nor should I have cared. I do not care "tuppence" for social position. What inducement was there for you to entertain them? The pleasure of being with those who are young, bright, happy, careless, and original. I do not like the sensible, and I do not like the old.

In the course of further cross-examination, the witness said: "Charley", Parker did not accompany me to the Savoy Hotel, and I strongly deny that there has been any misconduct between us. From October, 1893, to April, 1894, I had rooms in St. James's-place. Taylor wrote to me while I was staying there, telling me that Parker was in town, and I asked him to come and have " afternoon tea " with me. He came to see me five or six times. I liked his society. I gave him a silver cigarette case and about £3 or £4 in money.

Mr. Carson: What was there in common between you and these young men? Well, I will tell you. I like the society of people much younger than myself. I recognise no social distinctions at all. The mere effect of youth is so wonderful that I would sooner talk with a young man for half an hour than even be cross-examined in court. (Laughter.)

Cross-examination continued: A common boy I met in the street might be a pleasing companion. I took Parker to lunch with me at various places.

Witness went on to say that Parker had written a letter to him asking whether he might have the pleasure of dining with him that evening; and he (Mr. Wilde) was to send an answer by the messenger. The writer hoped it would be convenient "that we should spend the evening together."

Questioned with regard to "Freddy" Atkins, Mr. Wilde said he first met him at the rooms of a gentleman in a house off Regent-street. He had the charm of idleness about him, with the ambition to go on the music-hall stage.

Did he discuss literature with you? Oh, I wouldn't allow him. (Laughter.) The art of the music-hall was as far as he had got. Answering further, witness said he took Atkins over to Paris a fortnight after they met. They stayed at 29, Boulevard des Capucines, and Atkins was over there practically as his guest.

Mr. Carson: I think you told me that you heard that Parker and Taylor were arrested together? I read it in a newspaper.

Did you read that at the time they were arrested they were in company with several men in women's clothes? My recollection is that two young men in women's clothes drove up to a house of music-hall singers, and that they were arrested outside the house. I was very distressed when I saw the account of the raid in Fitzroy-square, but it made no difference in the friendship between myself and Taylor. I was not aware that one of the men was well known for his indecent practices.

Mr. Carson: If anyone says you slept in the same bed as Parker it is a mistake? Yes, an infamous lie. There was never any impropriety between himself and Atkins. He knew a young man named Scrape, who also had no occupation; he was introduced by Taylor. Witness had asked him to dine with him, and had given him a silver cigarette case. It was his usual present. The witness was then similarly cross-examined about a young man named Sydney Mayborn, to whom he also gave a silver cigarette case of the value of £4 11s. 6d. He dined with him (Mayborn) at the Albemarle Hotel, and they stayed there the night, because he liked to have people staying with him. Mayborn lived at Notting Hill. He had never taken boys into his bedroom at the Savoy. He was under the massage treatment then.

This concluded the cross-examination, and in reply to Sir E. Clarke, witness said letters written by the Marquis of Queensberry were communicated to him by the persons to whom they were addressed. These were read by counsel. The first, addressed to Lord Alfred Douglas, ran:-

"Alfred,-It is extremely painful to me to have to write to you in the strain I must, but please understand I decline to receive any answers from you in writing in return. After your previous hysterical impertinent ones, I refuse to be annoyed with such, and must ask you, if you have anything to say, to come here and say it in person. First, am I to understand that having left Oxford, as you did, with discredit to yourself, the reasons of which were fully explained to me by your tutor, you now intend to loaf and loll about and do nothing ? All the time you were wasting at Oxford I was put off with the assurance that you were eventually to go into the Civil Service or to the Foreign Office, and then I was put off by an assurance of your going to the Bar. It appears to me you intend to do nothing. . . I utterly decline, however, just to supply you with sufficient funds to loaf about. You are preparing a wretched future for yourself. . . Secondly, I come to a more painful part of this letter, your infamous intimacy with the man Wilde. It must either cease or I will disown you, and stop all money supply. I am not going to try and analyse this intimacy, and make no accusations. . . . No wonder people are talking as they are if you are seen as I saw you. Also, I now hear on good authority-but this may be false-that his wife is petitioning to divorce him. . . . Is this true, or do you not know of it ? The horror has come to my mind that it was possible you may perhaps be brought into this. If I thought the actual thing was true, and it becomes public property, I should be quite justified in shooting him at sight. . .- Your disgusted, so-called father, QUEENSBERRY."

Replying to a question, Mr. Wilde said there was not the slightest foundation for the remark as to divorce proceedings.

To the letter a telegram was sent in reply, "What a funny little man you are.-ALFRED DOUGLAS." The next letter began: "You impertinent young Jackanapes," and went on: "If you come to me with any of your impertinence, I shall give you the thrashing you richly deserve. The only excuse for you is that you must be crazy. All I can say is that if I catch you with that man again, I will make a public scandal in a way you little dream of. It is already a suppressed one. I prefer an open one."

A letter from the Marquis to Mr. Alfred Montgomery, his father-in-law, was next read:

"Sir,- ... Your daughter is the person who is supporting my son to defy me.... Last night I received a very quibbling sort of message from her, saying the boy denied having been at the Savoy for the last year.... As a matter of fact, he did so, and there has been a scandal ever since.... I saw Drumlanrig here (Maidenhead) on the river last night, which rather upset me…."

Another letter was read, and then

Sir E. Clarke asked: Having regard to the contents of those letters did you or did you not think it right to disregard the wishes referred to in them? I thought it right to entirely disregard them.

The court then adjourned for lunch.

On resuming, the court was kept waiting some 10 minutes owing to the absence of Mr. Wilde, who apologised to the judge for his lateness.

In answer to a question by Sir E. Clarke, regarding "Dorian Gray," witness said he had not "purged" or "toned down" that book for the purpose of publishing it in book form, but he had altered a certain passage which was liable to be misconstrued.

Sir Edward Clarke then read in full Mr. Wilde's letter in reply to the criticism of "Dorian Gray" which appeared in the Scots Observer. And then read again the passage from "Dorian Gray" on which Mr. Carson cross-examined Mr. Wilde yesterday afternoon, and the following passage, which, he claimed, threw an entirely different light on the whole.

Continuing, Mr. Wilde said that he first knew Alfred Taylor in October, 1892. He was introduced to him by the gentleman whose name had been written down and referred to. That gentleman was one of high position and of good repute. He had not seen him since March, 1894. He had not been in England for two years, and had not been available as a witness in this case. When he was introduced to Taylor, Taylor was living at 13, College-street. He knew nothing about Taylor having any occupation or about his means. He knew that he had been educated at Marlborough, and was a well educated and accomplished man. Neither at the time of this first meeting, nor at any time since, had he had any reason to believe that Alfred Taylor was an immoral and disreputable person. As to the arrest of Taylor and Parker the explanation which Taylor gave him was that it was a benefit concert he was attending. He was asked to play the piano, and two music-hall singers were expected to come in costume. They were not in the house; and suddenly the police entered and arrested everybody. He thought it was monstrous to blame Taylor in the matter.

Witness had been introduced to Edward Shelley by Mr. John Lane, the publisher. He found Shelley to be a young man with a great desire for culture. He had carried on conversation on literary subjects with Shelley. In February, 1892, his play "Lady Windermere's Fan" was produced. He gave Shelley a ticket for the dress-circle on the first night. On the following night he supped with some gentlemen, and he thought Mr. Edward Shelley was one of the party. Mr. Shelley was a great admirer of his (Mr. Wilde's) own works, and he gratified that appreciation by giving Shelley copies of them. He had never written an inscription in any book that he gave to Shelley which he had the smallest objection to the whole world reading. Soon after the first appearance of "Lady Windermere's Fan" he went to Paris, and after his return Shelley dined with him at Tite-street.

Mr. Wilde then left the box, and Sir E. Clarke said the evidence for the prosecution was "closed for the present"-a qualification which Mr. Carson objected to. His lordship said that, broadly put, the case for the prosecution must close now, but at his discretion he might admit some other evidence.

Mr. Carson then opened the case for the defence. The Marquis, he said, was undoubtedly, they would find, justified in the public interest, and in the interest certainly of his son, in taking the steps he had to withdraw his son from the company of Wilde. Evidence would be brought to show that these young men with whom Oscar Wilde had been associated were all men of notorious immorality. Mr. Wilde was a man with a notorious reputation, a reputation which, it would be proved, led to trouble at the Savoy Hotel. Taylor was the pivot of the case. Taylor was notoriously a disreputable man. Taylor introduced these young men, these men of art, and grooms and valets, to Wilde. Yet Taylor was not to be produced. Witnesses would be brought to describe the extraordinary den-the perfumed, ever-curtained rooms-he 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.) But Taylor was not out of the country. Taylor, who, if any man could, could speak for Mr. Wilde. And Taylor was still a friend of Wilde's. But he was not called.

As to the literature written by Oscar Wilde, Mr. Carson took up first the Chameleon. He would not say Mr. Wilde was responsible for all that appeared in that publication. But if he was willing to contribute to a journal which had for its purpose the praise of a gross practice, and wrote for such a journal aphorisms and philosophies for the use of the young, what could they believe but that he approved of its teachings? He disapproved of the article in the journal called "The Priest and the Acolyte," not because it was immoral, but merely because it was not artistic. The language used by the priest in the article with reference to the acolyte was the same in effect as that addressed to Lord Alfred Douglas by Mr. Wilde. The same strain, the same immorality ran through "Dorian Gray." If they found Mr. Wilde himself in his conduct with Lord Alfred Douglas adopting the same idea as ran through those articles and books, could they have any doubt that the same kind of mind was dominating the conduct of Lord Alfred Douglas? 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 Gray," 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.

The case was adjourned.

The charge of criminal libel brought by Oscar Wilde against the Marquis of Queensberry, which resulted in the acquittal of the accused without a stain on his character, and the subsequent prosecution of Wilde, are fully detailed in the papers brought by the mail delivered to-day.

Sir E. Clarke, Q.C., M.P., with Mr C. Mathews and Mr Travers Humphrey, appeared for the prosecution; Mr Carson, Q.C., Mr C.F. Gill, Q.C., and Mr A. Gill defended; and Mr Besley, Q.C., with Mr Monckton, watched the case on behalf of Lord Douglas Hawick.

After some preliminary evidence had been given Mr Oscar Wilde was called and examined by Sir E. Clarke. He said — I am the prosecutor in this case, and am 39 years of age. My father was Sir William Wilde, surgeon, of Dublin, and chairman of the Census commission. He died when I was at Oxford. I was a student at Trinity College, Dublin, where I took a classical scholarship and the gold medal for Greek. I then went to Magdalen College, Oxford, where I took a classical scholarship, a first in "Mods" and a first in "Greats" of the Newdigate prize for English verse. I took my degree in 1878, and came down at once. From that time I have devoted myself to art and literature. In 1882 I published a volume of poems, and afterwards lectured in England and America. I have written many essays of different kinds, and during the last few years have devoted myself to dramatic literature. In 1884 I married Miss Lloyd, and from that date till now have lived with her in Tite street, Chelsea. I have two sons, the eldest of whom will be ten in June, and the second nine in November.

In 1891 did you make the acquaintance of Lord Alfred Douglas? — Yes, he was brought to my house by a mutual friend. Before then I had not been acquainted with Lady Queensberry, but since then I have, and have been a guest in her house many times. I also knew Lord Douglas, of Hawick, and the late Lord Drumlanrig. Lord Alfred had dined with me from time to time at my house, and at the Albemarle Club, of which my wife is a member, and has stayed with us at Cromer, Goring, Worthing, and Torquay. In November, 1892, I was lunching with him at the Cafe Royal, where we met Lord Queensberry, and on my suggestion Lord Alfred went to him and shook hands. I was aware that there had been some estrangement between the two. Lord Queensberry joined us, and remained chatting with me. From 3rd November, 1892, till March, 1894, I did not see the defendant, but in 1893 I heard that some letters that I had addressed to Lord Alfred Douglas had come into the hands of certain persons.

THE CROSS-EXAMINATION.

Cross-examined by Mr Carson: You stated that your age was 39, I think you are over 40. You were born on 16th October, 1854? — I had no wish to pose as being young.

That makes you more than 40? — Ah!

In reply to further questions the prosecutor said: Lord Alfred Douglas is about 24, and was between 20 and 21 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 continues 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 Tite street? — Yes, at 10 and 51, 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, and other boy's 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.

May I take it that you think "The Priest and the Acolyte" was not immoral? — It was worse, it was badly written. (Laughter.)

Do you think the story blasphemous? — I think it violated every artistic cannon of beauty. I did not consider the story blasphemous.

A copy of "Lippincott's Magazine," in which the story of the "Dorian Gray" first appeared, was handed to its author.

Have you ever "madly adored" anybody many years younger than yourself? — I have reserved adoration for myself only.

Mr Carson then quoted an abstract from the Lippincott version of Dorian Gray, 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 Gray as a man of very corrupt influence, though there was no statement as to the nature of his 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'm 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 was extraordinary. Why should a man of your age address a boy nearly 20 years younger like that? — I was fond of him. 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 Shakapeare 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.

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. 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 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 L49 for a week. (Laughter.) Why is it you are not here, my dear, my wonderful boy I fear I must have no money, no credit. — Your own OSCAR.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then Mr Wilde was asked several peculiar questions as to the manner in which Taylor's apartments were furnished. He would not say the appointments were luxurious, but much taste was displayed.

Were the rooms not always darkened? — No.

Did you see any other light to that afforded by candle or lamp? — I generally went there about tea-time, and I suppose it was dark then.

Were the windows covered by double curtains? — It is quite possible, but I can't tell you.

Were the rooms not always strongly perfumed? — Yes, a little perfume, I believe, was used.

Mr Wilde's memory was next taxed in regard to a youth named Mayor. This youth had not been seen of late, and the suggestion was that he had been spirited away, but this Mr Wilde denied.

Coming back again to the acquaintance with Taylor, Mr Carson asked whether that individual figured in female attire, but Mr Wilde was not aware of it.

Was Taylor a literary person, Mr Wilde? — He was a young man of great taste.

Did you discuss literary matters with him? — He used to listen, said Mr Wilde — and the court laughed.

There was another youth named "Fred," said Mr Carson. — There was, replied Mr Wilde. He used to visit at Taylor's place.

Had you ever any trouble over Fred? — None.

Do you know that the police at one time were watching you and Taylor? — No.

Do you know that Taylor and a man named Parker were arrested during a raid made last year at a house in Fitzroy-square? — Yes; I heard so.

Do you know Parker? — Yes.

And now do you that Taylor was notorious for introducing young men to older men? — No.

Has he introduced many to you? — Six or seven: no — about five.

All of whom you know by their Christian names? — Yes.

Have you given money to them? — Yes, all five, I suppose — money or presents.

Did Taylor introduce you to Charles Parker? — Yes.

Was he a gentleman's servant out of employment? — How do I know?

If he had not been a gentleman's servant out of employment you would not have become friendly with him? — I become friendly with anyone I take a liking to.

Was he an artist or a literary man? — Culture was not his strong point, replied Oscar, lightly.

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

How much money have you given Parker? — Four or five pounds.

What for? — Because he was poor, and I liked him. What better reason?

Where did you first see Parker? — At a restaurant — Kettner's.

Was his brother with him? — Yes.

Did you become familiar with him? — They were my guests; they were at my table, so of course I did.

Did you not say that night of Charlie Parker, in the presence of others, "This is the boy for me; will you come with me?" — Most certainly not.

But he went with you afterwards to your rooms at the Savoy Hotel? — He did not.

You gave him money? — Yes. Four pounds or so. He said he was hard-up.

Then Mr Carson asked; Now, Mr Wilde, I ask you what was there in common between you and this young fellow? — I will tell you. I like the society of people who are younger than myself. I recognise no social distinctions of any kind. To me the mere fact of youth is so wonderful that I would sooner talk to a young man for half an hour than even be cross-examined by you in court.

Mr Wilde then went on to admit that he had taken Parker to the Crystal Palace and other places, but denied absolutely the suggestions made.