The New Orleans daily Democrat. [volume] (New Orleans, La.) 1877-1880, 1879-06-15
SUNDAY GOSSIP.
st. Pasrick's and the Curto Concert.


Birds of Passage-Dr. Bristor as
an Elocutionist-The Last Words
on Woman's Rights.
Our especial party went en- masse to hear
the Curto music in st. Patrick's. l wonder
how many people have noticed the fine archt-
tectural effect Of the old church from the in
side? Somebody said 1t was modelled after
Henry the Eighth's Chapel In Westminster
Abbey; but should think the builders OF ST.
Patrick's would not anything" Of that mon
arch or his chapel. In the face OF the grand
demonstrations In honor OF the patron saints
superb cathedral In New York, 1t seems quite
absurd to indulge in fluctuations over our I'M
pretending one, but we have no Clarence
Cook to point out snowy Theatrical expe-
dents and insincerlties In stucco work, and
may, therefore, admire without trembling.
But to retrace the half step from the con-
cert-the music proved all interesting, much
OF 1t good, and just q little very beautiful.
observed, In the first part Of the mass, the
patriarchical maestro came down somewhat
too audibly with his baton on the railing In
front, but 1t was doubtless from an excess Of
zeal to have things go off all right, for it must
be admitted the chorus started once or twice
before getting the word, which was exasp ara
ting enough, perhaps, to occasion wish on
the author-leaders part to beat something
else beside time.
I was delighted with Nine. Bertins' sweet
voice in the duo "Sancta Mater" Mr..
Renaud, who sang the tQue est homo" has
naturally q fine voice. but the lack OF steady
culture is more apparent than it should be.
with a gentleman SO generously endowed OF
nature, although he has. under disadvant-
ages OF an unframed method, CROPPED toward,
approximately. a creditable improvement, in
the lustrom which has passed since i first
heard him.
Mrs Broadus sang with more light and
shade than is always her won't. Vocal health
ID rarer than health in any other Of Its mani
festations; it is consequently the more sat-
isfaction to hear SO perfectly sound and
healthful an organ as that OF Mrs. Broadus.
Of course, II one were hyper-exacting, there
could be desired an informing affiatus Of feel
ing and sentiment which the lady has not;
but think the audience was not made up of
such, and satisfaction was general with the
presence Of her conspicuous good points, with
out signing over the absence OF others also In
themselves desirable.
Ithad been persistently asserted that Miss
julia Thomas had SO completely expended her
sweet voice In the service Of the Temple Sinai
that there was not anything left of it. Our
establishment and pleasure were therefore
equal, when she executed her solo 80 beauti-
fully as to refute all the petty talk, and prove
herself TO have present as well as a past,
and also an encouraging hope for musical
future.
The browning incident Of the evening, to
my thinking, was Mr.. Bremer's solo to the
last grand chorus OF the Mass. I know a
mer albeitin the front rank, still, undeniably,
in the amateur side OF the division, but there
was no remembering that circumstance while
listening to his singing, which was artistic,
with the thrilling ringingness which we have
grown to consider professional for hearing it
SO unseldom from amateurs. Mr.. Bremen
must feel solid satisfaction, Ii he cares to
take stock OF his improvement, when he re-
members how he sang the same piece year
ago at the philharmonic concert and last
Sunday night at st. Patrick's Church.
My attention was attracted by the name Of
our rising young poet, Espy Williams, entic-
1ngly heading poem In one OF the Sunday
Journals was alIured to break stringent
The title was forbidding, but the interest In
the author great. The mitigated Parrhasius,
even when recited by Harry Pickles. used
always to be an infallible prescription for de-
fullest auspices; but this Parrhasius proved
to have an augmented horror to that OF N. p.
Willis. In this day Of the exposition Of error
we had good right to expect vlndicator to
arise-and that SANDER Of Seneca on '.the
Prince Of painters the prize artist of the
pictorial joust-to be forever sienced. or
course know the illimitable claims OF poetic
license, but could have wished Mr.. Williams |
had used his freedom to gather fancies more
inspiriting than this parrfcidal tale Of dread. |
We shall expect compromising "PAllegro' |
for this deeply dyed, abhorrent .'P enseroso."
Having done much to add to the gloom, he |
should accept the poets kindlier office, and |
pluck aside the heavy curtains to let In upon |
Mr.. Williams!
There has come to dwell with us remark
able woman, to whom the word of scope
great--may be truly applied. Not many days
since made 90 delightful morning visit to
Mrs. Sarah Dorsey, was inspired with a |
wish that the pleasure might be shared with |
others. Mrs. Dorsey was, for the time being,
m invalid, and surrounded with all the refined
accessories OF convalescence, noticeably flow
ars 10 profusIon. Dressed In dainty lace
ing much Of curly mass Of rather short hair,
only slightly time-sprinkled, and with eyes OF |
wonderful brightness and penetration, the
ady at once made photograph on my mem
Dry, not Of the negative sort, but an impress
sion indelible by time or the sunlight of many
lays to come.
Our talk was first Of books, and Mrs. Dor
,ey chatted Familiarity Of more authors than
had ever encountered in pretty industri-
'us decade OF literary gleanings. The remi-
1iscences Of her acquaintance with literary
celebrities extend from Thackeray to our con
,emporaneous Henry James, Jr., who, she
'ays, is remarkable for preternaturally sharp
md brilliant eyes-like the lady's own, I
mentally commented. William Black, the
landscape aoriter, was infinitely reserved Of
'peeeh; on one occasion sitting by Mrs. Dor
ey throughout long, London dinner in al
most absolute silence.
There were many pictures in the apart
nents, conspicuous among them mastery
rayon OF the President OF our late Confed-
racy, who is a relative. My attention was
ira wn to the splendid head Of an old lady:
ny hostess quick response to the unspoken
uestlon was, THAT Is a head OF his mother,
one for me by Dante Rossetti" Then she
Old me how dear TO her heart were the whole