THE SOCIETY SCANDAL
ANOTHER SENSATIONAL HEARING.
OSCAR WILDE AGAIN IN THE WITNESS BOX.
ASTOUNDING ADMISSIONS.
A TRIP TO PARIS.
OPENING OF THE DEFENCE.

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.

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.

London, Friday.The hearing of the libel action brought by Mr Oscar Wilde against the Marquis of Queensberry was resumed to-day at the Old Bailey. Sir E Clarke, Q C; Mr C Mathews, and Mr Travers Humphreys attended to prosecute. 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.

Sir Edward Clarke, Q.C., Mr. C. Mathews, and Mr. Travers Humphreys appeared for the prosecution; Mr. Carson, Q.C., Mr. C. F. Gill, and Mr. A. Gill for the defence; and Mr. Besley, Q.C., and Mr. Monckton watched the case on behalf of Lord Drumlanrig, the eldest son of the defendant.

Sir Edward Clarke, Q.C., Mr. C. Mathews, and Mr. Travers Humphreys appeared for the prosecution; Mr. Carson, Q.C., Mr. C. F. Gill, and Mr. A. Gill for the defence; and Mr. Besley, Q.C., and Mr. Monckton watched the case on behalf of Lord Douglas of Hawick.

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 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 Wilde again went into the witness box on Thursday, 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 Wilde again went into the witness box on Thursday, 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.

Was it not luxurious?—No, I said in good taste. I thought them 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.

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.

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.

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

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

Were the rooms strongly perfumed?--Yes; I have known him to burn perfumes in his rooms--a charming idea. I burn perfume 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.

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

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

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

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

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

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.

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.

And get on 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.

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 home 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.

In the course of further cross-examination the witness said—The dinner at Kettner's was given by me March, 1893. It was one of the best they could provide. "Charley" Parker did not accompany me to the Savoy hotel that night, 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.

In the course of further cross-examination the witness said--The dinner at Kettner's was given by me in March 1893. It was one of the best they could provide. "Charley" Parker did not accompany me to the Savoy hotel that night, 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.

In the course of further cross-examination the witness said--The dinner at Kettner's was given by me in March, 1893. It was one of the best they could provide. "Charley" Parker did not accompany me to the Savoy hotel that night, and I strongly deny that there has been any misconduct between us. From October, 1893, to April 1894, I had rooms in St. Jame'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.)

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 recgonize 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 ever be cross-examined in court (laughter).

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 recognize 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 ever been cross-examined in court (laughter).

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 recognize no social distinction at all. The mere effect of youth is so wonderful that I would sooner talk with a young man for half an hour then ever be cross-examined in court (laughter).

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.

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).

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

What was there in common between you and a young man in the position of this young man ?—Well, I will tell you. I delight in the society of men younger than myself. I like those who may be glad, young, and careless. I recognise no social distinctions of any kind between them and myself, and to me the mere fact of youth is so wonderful that I would sooner talk to a young man for half an hour than be cross-examined in Court even. (Laughter.)

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

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.

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.

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.

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."

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

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.

Having regard to the contents of those letters, did you or did you not think it right to disregard the wish referred to?—I thought it right to entirely disregard it.

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.

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