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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 hearing of the charge against the Marquess of Queensberry of criminally libelling Mr. Oscar Wilde was resumed yesterday at the Central Criminal Court, before Mr. Justice Henn Collins. The defence is a justification of the libel. — The counsel for the prosecution are Sir E. Clarke, Q.C, Mr. C. Mathews, and Mr. Travers Humphreys. Mr. Carson, Q.C, Mr. C. F. Gill, Q.C, and Mr. A. Gill appear for Lord Queensberry ; while Mr. Besley, Q.C, and Mr. Monckton watch the case for Lord Douglas of Hawick, the eldest son ot the Marquess.

Mr. Oscar Wilde entered the court about ten minutes past ten, and the Marquess of Queensberry appeared in the dock as soon as the Judge entered the court.

Mr. Carson at once resumed his cross-examination of Mr. Wilde, who said it was Taylor who arranged the meeting with Wood with reference to the letters. He knew his house in 13, Little Collet-street and had been there seven or eight times.

Used he to do his own cooking ? — I don't know. I never dined there. I don't think he did anything wrong.

I have not suggested that he did ? — Well, cooking is an art (laughter).

Another art! Did he always open the door? — Sometimes he and sometimes any of his friends who might be there.

Were his rooms not rather elaborate for Little Collet-street ? — Yes ; I thought them very pretty rooms.

Were the rooms strongly perfumed ? — I don't know what you mean. He used to burn perfumes just as I do in my rooms.

Just as you do. Did you ever see Wood there ? — No, never, except on the one occasion.

Did you ever see Sidney Maver there ? — Yes. He dined with me a year ago. I have not the remotest idea where he is now.

Has Taylor told you that he had a lady's costume there ? — No, he has never told me so, and I have never heard of it.

You frequently communicated with him by telegraph. Had you any business with him ? — No, none at all. He was a friend of mine.

Was he a literary man ? — He was a young man of great taste and intelligence, and bad been brought up at a very good English public school. I have never seen any created work of his.

I am not talking about that ? — Then what do yon mean by a literary man ?

Did you discuss literature with him ? — He used to listen on the subject.

I suppose that he used to get an intellectual treat also ? — Certainly.

Was he an artist ? — Not in the sense of creating anything. He was extremely intellectual and clever, and I liked him very much.

Used you to get him from time to time to arrange dinners for you to meet young men ? — No. I have dined with him and young men perhaps 10 or 12 times at Solferino's, Kettner's, and the Florence. We usually had a private room, as I prefer dining in private rooms.

Did you send Taylor this telegram : "Could you call at six o'clock. — Oscar, Savoy" ? — Yes. I had received an anonymous letter saying that Alfred Wood was going to blackmail me for certain letters that he had stolen from Lord Alfred Douglas. The matter of my meeting Wood was discussed then.

Who was Fred ? — Fred was a young man to whom I was introduced by the gentleman whose name you handed me yesterday. His other name was Atkins.

You were very familiar with him ? — What do you mean by being familiar ? I liked him.

You told me yesterday that you called persons by their Christian names ? — Always when I like them. If I dislike people I call them something else.

Had you any trouble about Fred ? — Never in my life.

Did you know that Taylor was being watched by the police ? — No, I never heard that.

Do you know that Taylor and Parker were arrested together in a raid made on a house in Fitzroy-square ? — Last year, yes.

Did you know Parker ? — Yes. I do not think that I have seen him at Taylor's rooms, but when Taylor moved to Chapel-street I may have seen him there.

Was not Tayler notorious for introducing young men to older men ? — No ; I have never beard that in my life. He has introduced young men to me.

How many has he introduced to you ? — Do you mean people mentioned in the indictment ?

No. Young men with whom you afterwards became intimate ? — Five or six.

Were they all about 20 years of age ?— Twenty or 22. I like the society of young men.

Had they any occupation ? — That I really do not know.

To how many of them did you give money ? — I should think to all I gave money and presents.

Did they give you anything ? — Me ? No.

Did Taylor introduce you to Charles Parker ? — Yes; he was one of those I became friendly with.

Was he a gentleman's servant out of employment ? — I have no knowledge of that at all. I never heard it ; nor should I have minded. I should become friendly with any human being that I liked.

How old was he ? — Really, I do not keep a census. He may be about 20. He was young, and that was one of his attractions. I have never asked him his age. I think it vulgar to ask people their age.

Was he a literary character ? — Oh, no.

Was he an educated man ? — Culture was not his strong point (laughter).

Did you ever ask him what his previous occupation was ? — I never inquire into people's pasts.

Nor their futures ?— Ah, that is a public matter.

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

How much money did you give Parker ? — I should think altogether 4 or 5.

For what? — Because he was poor. He had no money, and I liked him. What better reason could I have ?

Where did you first meet bim ? — At Kettner's, with Alfred Taylor. His brother was also there.

Did you become friendly with his brother ? — They were my guests at table.

On the first occasion you saw them ? — Yes. It was Taylor's birthday, and I asked him to dinner and told him to bring any of his friends.

Did you know that one was a gentleman's valet and the other a gentleman's groom ? — I did not know it, and if I had I should not have cared. I do not care twopence about social position.

What enjoyment was it to you to be entertaining grooms and coachmen ? — The pleasure of being with those who are young, bright, happy, careless, and original.

Taylor accepted your invitation by bringing a valet and a groom ? — That is your account, not mine.

Were they persons of that class ? — I am surprised at your description, as they seemed not to have the manners of that class. They spoke of a father at Datchet who was a person of wealth, or not exactly of wealth ; and Charles Parker said that he was anxious to go upon the stage.

Did you call him Charley on the first evening ? — Yes.

Had you a good dinner ? — I forget the mean, but it was Kettner at his best (laughter).

Of course, you did the honours to the groom and the valet in a private room ? — I entertained Mr. Taylor's friends in a private room.

Did you give them also an intellectual treat ? — They were deeply impressed (laughter).

Did Charles Parker call you Oscar ? — Yes. I like to be called either Oscar or Mr. Wilde.

Had they plenty of champagne ? — What gentleman would stint his guests? (laughter).

Mr Carson. — What gentleman would stint the valet and the groom !

Both the Witness and his Counsel objected to this expression.

After dinner did you not, in the presence of Taylor and William Parker, turn to Charles Parker and say, "This is the boy for me ? " — Most certainly not.

In further cross-examination on this point. Witness denied that Parker ever visited him at the Savoy Hotel. He never gave Parker money until December, 1893. He made no inquiry as to the occupation of the Parkers, nor was he told by Taylor that he had met them first in St. James's Restaurant. Charles Parker visited him at his rooms in St. James's-place, and had tea with him five or six times. He had given Parker a silver cigarette case as a Christmas box. He gave him about 3. or 4. When he asked him for it he said he was hard up.

What did you find attractive in a young man of this class? — I like to be in the society of people much younger than myself. I recognise no social distinctions of any kind, and to me youth, the mere fact of youth, is so wonderful that I would sooner talk to a young man for half an hour than even be examined in court (laughter).

Do I understand that even a young boy yon would pick up in the street would be a pleasing companion ? — I would talk to a street arab with pleasure. Charles Parker had no employment during the time I knew him. He had an allowance from his father, of the smallness of which he complained. I knew he lived at 7, Camera-square. He lunched with me at the Cafe Royal and at St. James's-place, and dined with me at Kettner's. We did not have a private room. We went then to the Pavilion, but we did not go back to St. James's-place. I have never been to see him.

Why ? — Well, it really would not have interested me to go to see him ; while it was interesting to him to see me (laughter). Going to see him is a very different thing to coming to see me.

The Witness further said that he had dined with Parker, Taylor, Wood, and others at Solferino's in the January of this year or December of last year. He did not remember Parker leaving Camera-square for 50, Park-walk. He had not written him any beautiful letters, and did not keep any of Parker's letters except one which was produced. This was a letter from Parker asking Mr. Wilde to wire him whether he (Parker) should have the pleasure of dining with him that evening, and was signed "Yours faithfully, CHARLES PARKER."

Sir Edward Clarke. — I think from the tone in which this has been dealt with, that your Lordship had better have the letter, so that you can see what Parker's letter is like.

Mr. Carson. — Never mind that. Parker himself will be in the box, and the Jury will see what he is like.

Did you go to Parkers, at Park-walk, at 12.30 at night in March or April last year ? — No. I do not know how far Park-walk is from Tite-street. I never walk, I always ride. I keep my cab outside when making calls, if it is a good one (laughter). Proceeding, Witness said he believed Parker had enlisted, and he bad seen that both Parker and Taylor were arrested in a police raid on a house where men were dressed in women's clothes. The learned Counsel took the Witness through the names of the men arrested. Witness denied having heard of one of the Prisoners, Sydney Preston, as connected with the Cleveland-street scandals, nor of another as notorious for certain practices.

When you saw that Taylor was arrested in the company of these people, did it make any difference in your feelings towards him? — When I read it I was greatly distressed, and I wrote and told him so. I did not see bim again till this year, but it bas made no difference in my feelings, and he came to my house last Tuesday.

When did you first know Fred Atkins ?— ln October, 1892. He told me tbat he was connected with a firm of bookmakers. I did not come into contact with him through making bets. I met him at a dinner given by the gentleman whose name you wrote down. I think Taylor was there. We called each other by our Christian names at that dinner.

Did he seem to be an idle kind of fellow? — He seemed to have the charm of idleness. He had an ambition to go on the music-hall stage. I thought him very pleasant.

Did he discuss literature with you ? — No. I did not allow him to.

That; was not his line ? — The art of the music hall was as far as he got. On a subsequent Sunday I saw him and the gentleman mentioned lunching at the Cafe Royal, and they came and had their coffee and cigarettes at my table. I intended to go to Paris the next day to arrange for the publication ot a book, and the gentleman, who was also going with Atkins, suggested that we should go together. It was arranged that we should go on the Monday but on that Sunday the gentleman told me that he could not go till Tuesday or Wednesday, and asked me, as Atkins seemed very disappointed at his stay in Paris being shortened, if I would take him over. I said I would with the greatest pleasure.

How long had you known him ? — About a fortnight.

You went to Paris on the 20th of November by the club train ? — Yes. I paid for his ticket, but was afterwards repaid by the gentleman. Atkins did not go in the capacity of my secretary ; it is childish to ask me such a question. I took him to the rooms where I was staying. I did not, after our arrival, ask Atkins to copy out a page of MS. I took Atkins to lunch at the Cafe Julien. He was my guest, and had certainly not the means to pay for a lunch such as I like.

Did you suggest that he should have his hair curled? — No ; he suggested it, and I said that I thought it would be very unbecoming.

Had he got his hair curled ? — I should have been very angry if he had (laughter). It would have been a silly thing to do.

Did he get his hair curled at Pascal's, under the Grand Hotel ? — Not while I was in Paris.

After dinner did you give Atkins a sovereign to go to the Moulin Rouge ? — Yes.

Did the other gentleman whose name has not been disclosed come to Paris two days afterwards ? — He came on Wednesday, and we all three returned together on Saturday.

Shortly after arriving in London, did yon ask Atkins to call at your house in Tite-street ? — I think I wrote to the other gentleman asking him to bring Fred Atkins. I was ill in bed, and they called, I think, together.

Did you ask Atkins to give you back the letter you had written to him ? — No ; I have no recollection of any letter.

Did yon ask him to say nothing about the visit to Paris ? — Certainly not. I thought it the great event of his life, and it was.

You have been in correspondence with Atkins up to the present year ? — I have written to him on several occasions, and have twice sent him tickets for my plays.

What is his present address ? — Osnaburgh-street.

You have been to tea there ? — Yes.

Was there anyone else there at the time ? — Yes. An actor, about 20 years of age.

Did you give Atkins any money ? — I gave him 3. 15s. to buy his first song on the music-hall stage. He told me that poets who wrote for the music-hall stage never take less (laughter).

Was he alone ? — When he came to St. James's-place I think he was accompanied by this young actor. There never were any improprieties between us. I thought him a very pleasant, good-natured fellow, and as he was going on the music-hall stage I bought him a song.

Did you know Ernest Scarfe? — l met him in 1893. Taylor introduced him. He was a young man about 20, and had no occupation ; but had been in Australia. I did not know he bad been a valet, nor do I know he is employed as that now in a situation. He appeared a very pleasant-spoken young man.

Was he educated? — Education depends on one's standard. I never met him in society, certainly not ; bat he has been in my society (laughter). I have seen him with Taylor. Taylor introduced him to me at St. James's-place.

How did he come to bring that young man there ? — Shall I tell you ? He told me he knew a young man who had met on board ship going out to Australia Lord Douglas of Hawick. They had met at a skating rink, and Taylor brought him to see me.

The honour was quite unexpected? — lt was no shock, but I did not expect him. It was in the early afternoon. I made an appointment for them to dine with me on another day. We dined at Kettner's.

Why did you ask him to dinner ? — Because I am very good natured, and because it is one of the best ways of pleasing anyone not of your social position (laughter). I gave him a cigarette case ; it was my habit (laughter). I last saw Scarfe in February, when he dined with me at the Arundel Hotel. He was then employed as a clerk at a place in St. Pauls-churchy-yard.

When did you first know Sidney Maver ? — ln September, 1892. I do not know where he is now. I never gave him any money, nor a cigarette-case.

You deal at a shop in Bond-street, Thornton's ? — Yes.

Did you not tell them to send a cigarette-case, value 4 11 s. 6d., to S. A. Maver ? — Well, if it is there, perhaps I did so. I give people presents, because I like them.

Did you ask him to stay with you at the Albemarle Hotel ?— Yes.

When was that ? — In October, after I had given him the cigarette-case. I was on my way through for Scotland, and I stayed one night there, and he met me at the station when I arrived, and I asked him to stay at the same place. Maver was living at Notting-hill or West Kensington.

Do you know Walter Granger? — Yes, he was a servant at a certain house in High-street, Oxford, and was about 16. They were the rooms of Lord Alfred Douglas, and I have stayed there several times.

Were you on familiar terms with Granger ? Did you have him to dine with you ? — No, he waited at table.

Did you ever kiss him ? — He was a particularly plain boy. He was, unfortunately, very ugly. I pitied him for it.

Do you say that in support of your statement that you never kissed him ? — No : it is such a childish question to ask me.

Did you not give it me as a reason that you never kissed him that he was too ugly ? — Mr. Wilde (warmly) : I did not say that. The question seemed to me merely an intentional insult on your part, such as I have been going through the whole of this morning.

Why did you mention bis ugliness ? lam obliged to ask you these questions. — It is ridiculous to imagine that any such thing could possibly have occurred under any circumstances.

Then why did yon mention his ugliness ? — For that reason. If I was asked why I did not kiss a doorpost, I should say, " Because I do not like to kiss doorposts," and then am I to be cross-examined because I do not like it ?

Why did you mention the boy's ugliness ? — Perhaps yon stung me by an insulting question.

Was that a reason that yon should say that the boy was ugly ? — Pardon me, I say that you sting me and insult me, and try to unnerve me, and at times one says things flippantly when one should speak more seriously. I admit it.

Then you said it flippantly ? That is what you wish to convey now ? — Oh, do not say that I want to convey anything. I have given you my answer.

But is that it ? It was a flippant answer ? — Oh, it was a flippant answer.

(Mr. Wilde showed considerable excitement during this part of the cross-examination.)

In June. 1893, did yon go to Goring ? — Yes, I took The Cottage there. I engaged Granger as under-butler. I deny that I acted improperly towards him.

Did you ever bring any boys into your room at the Savoy ?— No.

Did you bring boys into your rooms in Paris ? — No. What do you mean by boys ?

Well, youths"from 18 to 20 years of age? — l have many friends in Paris of tbat age who would call upon me.

Did any of them call about midnight and stay until four or five o'clock in the morning ? — Certainly not.

This concluded the cross-examination.

Sir E. Clarke began his re-examination by handing to the Witness a bundle of letters written by Lord Queensberry, and asked — Was it from those letters that you first learned that Lord Queensbeny objected to your acquaintance with his son, Lord Alfred Douglas ? — Yes.

The letters were put in and read by Sir E. Clarke. The first, which was dated April 1, from Parker's Hotel, in Albemarle-street, was addressed by Lord Queensberry to Lord Alfred Douglas. In it Lord Queensberry expressed his pain at having to write in such a strain, and declared that any answer must be delivered in person, as, after "your present hysterically impertinent ones" he declined to read any more letters. " Having had to leave Oxford in disgrace to yourself, the reasons of which were fully explained to me by your tutor, you are now loafing and lolling about, doing nothing." The letter afterwards went on to say that Lord Queensberry utterly "declined to just supply you with just sufficient funds just to enable you to loaf," and added, "You are preparing a wretched future for yourself, and it would be most cruel and wrong for me to encourage you in this." Then came a reference to "your infamous intimacy with this man Wilde." "I am not going" he wrote, "to try to analyse this intimacy, and I make no charge, but to my mind to pose as a thing is as bad as to be it. 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."

Sir E. Clarke. — Is there any truth in the statement about the petition for divorce? — There is not the slightest foundation for the statement.

Sir E. Clarke then began to read the second letter to Lord Alfred Douglas. It was dated April 3, and began: — "You impertinent young jackanapes, I request that you will not send such messages to me by telegraph."

Mr. Carson. — Read the telegram from Lord Alfred Douglas to his father.

Sir E. Clarke. — Certainly.

The telegram was handed in, and was as follows : —

"To Queensberry. Parker's Hotel, Albemarle-street. — What a funny little man you are. — ALFRED DOUGLAS."

Sir E. Clarke then read the following letter : —

"Tues., 3d, Carter's Hotel, 14 and 15, Albemarle-street, W.

"You impertinent young Jackanapes, — I request yon will not send me such messages through the telegraph, and 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. I heard from a man the other day who was at Oxford with you that that was your reputation there, which accounts for a good deal that has happened. All I can say is, if I catch you with that man again I will make public scandal in a way you little dream of ; it is already a suppressed one. I prefer an open one, and at any rate I shall not be longer blamed for allowing such a state of things to go on. Unless this acquaintance ceases I shall carry out my threat, and stop all supplies, and if you are not going to make any attempt to do something I shall certainly cut you down to a mere pittance, so you know what to expect.

"QUEENSBERRY."

The next letter was from Lord Queensberry, dated July 6, 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 send the telegram unless the boy could deny that he was ever there with Mr. Wilde. As a matter of fact he did do so, and there had been a scandal. The letter proceeded :— This hideous scandal has been going on for years. Your daughter must be mad the way she is behaving. She evidently wants to I make out I want to make out a case against my son. It is nothing of the kind. I have made out a case against Oscar Wilde, and I have, to his face, accused him of it. If I was quite certain of the actual thing, I'd shoot the fellow at sight, but I am not, and have only accused him of posing, and for that I will chastise and mark him if he won't stop. It now lays in the hands of these two whether they will further defy me, and your daughter appears to me now to be encouraging them to do so, although she can hardly intend this: I don't believe Wilde will now dare defy me. He plainly showed the white feather , the other day when I tackled him. As for this so-called son of mine, I will have nothing to do with him. He may starve as far as I am concerned, after his behaviour to me. His mother may support him, but she shan't do that here in London with this awful scandal going on."

The following also were addressed to Lord Alfred Douglas :

"Scotland, August 21."I have received your postcard, which I presume is from you, but as the writing is utterly unreadable to me, have been unable to make out hardly one sentence. My object of receiving no written communication from you is therefore kept intact. All future cards will go into the fire unread. I presume these are the ' hyerogliphics' (sic) of the O. W. posing . . . . Club, of which you have the reputation of being such a shining light. I congratulate you on your autography, it is beautiful, and should help you to get a living. I don't know what at, but say crossing-sweeping. My friend I am staying with has made out some of your letter, and wished to read it to me, but I declined to hear a word. However, according to his advice, I shall keep it as a specimen, and also as a protection in case I ever feel tempted to give you the thrashing you really deserve. You reptile. You are no son of mine", and I never thought you were. "QUEENSBERRY."

"August 28th, '94, 26, Portland-place, W. "You miserable creature, — I received your telegram forwarded by post from Carter's, and have requested them not to forward any more, but just to tear any up, as I did yours, without reading it, directly I was aware from whom it came. You must be flush of money to waste it on such rubbish. I have learned, thank goodness, to turn the keenest pangs to peacefulness. What could be keener pain than to have such a son as yourself fathered upon one ? However, there is always a bright side to every cloud, and whatever is is light (fie). If you are my son, it is only confirming proof to me, if I needed any, how right I was to face every horror and misery I have done rather than run the risk of bringing more creatures into the world like yourself, and that was the entire and only reason of my breaking with your mother as a wife, so intensely was I dissatisfied with her as the mother of you children, and particularly yourself, whom, when quite a baby, I cried over you the bitterest tears a man ever shed that I had brought such a creature into the world, and unwittingly had committed such a crime. If you are not my son (and in this christian country, with their x x x hypocrites, 'tis a wise father who knows his own child, and no wonder on the principles they intermarry on ; but to be forewarned is to be forearmed. No wonder you have fallen a prey to this horrible brute. I am only sorry for you as a human creature. You must gang your ain gait. Well, it would be rather a satisfaction to me, because the crime then is not to me. As you see, I am philosophical, and take comfort from anything ; but, really, I am sorry for you. You must be demented ; there is madness on your mother's side, and, indeed, few families in this christian country are without it, if you look into them. But please cease annoying me, for I will not correspond with you, nor receive nor answer letters, and, as for money, you sent me a lawyer's letter to say you would take none from me ; but anyhow, until you change your life I should refuse any — it depends on yourself whether I will ever recognise you at all again after your behaviour. I will make allowances, I think you are demented, and I am very sorry for you. "QUEENSBERRY."

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

Sir E.Clarke proceeded to examine the Witness as to the reviews on " Dorian Gray," and read the passage that was added to the edition published in this country.

In the course of the re-examination the Witness said that Taylor was introduced to him in October, 1892, by the gentleman whose name bad been written down. That gentleman was a person in high position, of good birth and good repute. It was now two years since he had been in England or since Witness had seen him. He knew that Taylor had lost a great deal of money that he had inherited, but 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, be believed that tbey were charged with assembling for a felonious purpose, but the charge against them was dismissed.

After the adjournment there was a delay of some time before Mr. Wilde re-entered the Court. When he did so he apologised to the Judge, stating that the clock at the restaurant where he lunched was wrong. Sir Edward Clarke examined him on certain letters written by Edward Shelly, in which the writer referred to theatres and plays, and the publishing of The Sphinx and Salome by Mr. Wilde. Shelly also made several appeals for money on account of ill-health and the inadequate payment he was receiving at a commercial house in the City.

Were there ever any relations between you and Shelly other than the relations between a man of letters and one who admired his works ? — Never, on any occasion.

With regard to Alfonzo Conway, did you ever hear that he hail 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.

Had you any idea 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 for suspecting them of being immoral or disreputable persons ? — Nothing whatever. Nothing has come to my knowledge that led me to 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 you did 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 post-card, addressed by Lord A. Douglas to Lord Queensberry : — "As you return my letters unopened I am obliged to write on a post-card. 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, tbe Cafe Royal, &c, and I shall continue to go to any of these places whenever I choose, and with whom I choose. I am of age and my own master ; you have disowned me at least a dozen times, and have very meanly deprived me of money. Yon 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, reserving to himself the power to claim to call evidence to rebut any that might be sprung upon him.

Mr. Wilde then left the box.

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. His conduct had been absolutely consistent throughout. 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 as to their being mixed up with 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 Marquess, 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 on his son while it was not given to him. From beginning to end Lord Queensberry had been influenced with regard to Mr. Oscar Wilde by the one hope alone of saving his son. What had been Mr. Wilde's own case ? That up to a certain date he had met Lord Queensberry, who had been on terms of friendship with him. Lord Queensberry had heard of Mr. Wilde's character, and of these scandals at the Savoy Hotel, which would be proved before them. 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 immoral 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. With regard to the books, they were being continually told by Mr. Wilde that they were by an artist for artists, but there was the greatest contrast between his books, which were for the select and not for the ordinary individual, and the way he chose his friends. He took up with Charlie Parker, a gentleman's servant, whose brother was a gentleman's servant ; with young Conway, whose brother sold papers on the pier at Worthing ; and with Scarfe, 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. He thought if they had rested the case alone upon Mr. Wilde's literature they would have been absolutely justified in the course which Lord Queensberry had taken. Lord Queensberry undertook to prove that Mr. Wilde was posing as guilty of certain vices. Mr. Wilde never complained of the immorality of the story of "The Priest and the Acolyte." He knew no distinction, in fact, between a moral and an immoral book. Nor did he care whether the article was in its very terms blasphemous. All that Mr. Wilde said was that he did not approve of the story from a literary point of view. What was that story ? It was the story of the love of a priest for the acolyte who attended him at Mass. Exactly the same idea that ran through the two letters to Lord A. Douglas ran through that story, and through "Dorian Gray." Mr. Wilde said that he did not think it was. The same idea ran through those two letters which Mr. Wiide called beautiful, but which he called disgusting. Moreover, there was in this same Chameleon a poem written by Lord Alfred Douglas, and it 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 be the horror of any man whose son wrote such a poem ? Passing to "Dorian Gray," he described it as the tale of a beautiful young man, who, by the conversation of one who had great literary power and the ability to speak in epigram, just as Mr. Wilde had, and who, by reading of exactly the same kind as that in "Phrases and Philosophies for the Use of the Young," had his eyes opened to what they pleased to call the delights of the world. (The learned Counsel read a long extract from Dorian Gray" with a view of maintaining that his contention as to the tendency of the book, was right.) When he was told that Lord Queensberry was to be sent to gaol because he had written this card, he said that he was not only justified, but bound, on the strength of these writings, to take any steps be thought necessary to put an end to this acquaintance. A more thinly-veiled attempt to cover the real nature of the letter called the sonnet had never been made in a Court of Justice. He supposed that his learned friend thought that they knew all about it, and that he had better not give any explanation of it ; but his explanation was futile, because from the letter that they did possess they had no explanation whatever. His learned friend said that a man named Wood had stolen the letters from Lord Alfred Douglas. But who was Wood ? Why, he was Alfred, the friend of Wilde, the friend of Taylor, one of the lot. What was the cause of the strained relations between the two over these letters which caused Mr. Wilde to go to Sir G. Lewis ? What was the reason of the roundabout method of trying to get the letters back ? Wood was not the innocent friend assisted by Wilde out of the largeness of his great heart, but one of the men introduced by Taylor, and when Wilde heard that he had the letters, he said that if Wood wished to turn against him he would have strong corroboration. That was the reason of his anxiety to get the letters at any cost. Taylor might have given a little information about his interview with Wood on the subject, and could probably have told them the whole matter. He was Wilde's bosom friend, and was in close conversation with him on Tuesday last ; but he had not been called. Why did Wilde give Wood 16 ? The one thing that he was anxious for was that Wood should leave the country; so he paid his passage, and, after a farewell lunch at the Florence, he was shipped away to New York, and he supposed that Wilde hoped that he would never see him again. But he was here, and would be examined (sensation). The letters were handed over, except one, and a copy of that was sent to Mr. Beerbohm Tree. With reference to this gentleman, he wished to say that so far as Mr. Tree's name had been introduced into the matter, he acted rightly in simply handing on the letter to Mr. Wilde.

Sir E. Clarke.— There is no question about that.

Mr. Carson said that he made that statement because he had that morning received a cablegram from Mr. Tree, saying that he had seen in America that his name had been mentioned.

The Judge. — There is not the slightest ground for making the slightest suggestion. He acted with the most perfect propriety.

Mr. Carson contended that Mr. Wilde, being in possession of a copy of a letter, had to discover how to get out of it. He told Allan, the blackmailer, it was to be produced as a sonnet. When did he make up his mind to so produce it ? The moment it was discovered it was necessary to make up a case for it, and he then pretended it was a valuable manuscript — a prose poem (laughter). He told that to Allan, the blackmailer. Mr. Carson then read the letter, stating that he took leave to say there was nothing beautiful in the idea; it was absolutely disgusting, especially as addressed to a boy under twenty by a man of forty. He would envy their credulity if they believed that that letter was ever intended for a sonnet. Why were none of the other letters made sonnets ? Only that was made known to the public which had been sent to Mr. Beerholm Tree. The learned Counsel went through the second letter given in The Standard of yesterday. He wished to know if, in view of those letters, they were going to send Lord Queensberry to gaol. He asked them to bear in mind that Lord Queensberry's son was so dominated by Wilde that he threatened to shoot his own father. Lord Queensberry did what he had done most deliberately, and was not afraid to abide by the issue in the Court.

The Court then adjourned. Lord Queensberry being released on 500. bail as before.