Morning journal and courier., 1882-01-11
Price Four Cents.

I
 the corners, and, contrary to the law, peo- | pie were permitted to stand in the aisles. l The gathering was pretty evenly divided as 1 to sex. Many were in evening dress One or two of the feminine costumes were such
 as Du Maurier has pictured. Several young 1 men wore their hair parted in the middle and 1 flowers in the lappels of their white over | coats. For the most part, however, the aud
 fence was naturally barbered, ordinarily | dressed, and, in manner and appearance, | commonplace and everyday. Noticed in it
 were Judges Brady and Barrett, David Dud-
 ley Field, Archibald Forbes, Jennie June, | Theodore Moss, Mrs. Fortescue, Bishop
 Clarkson, the Rev. Messrs. Hepworth and | Collyer, Henry Bergh, Aunt Fanny Barrows, | and Dr. Macdonald, Superintendent of the | City Insane Asylum at Wards Island. Until SEQ the lights were kept low, and the
 assemblage showed forth dinghy. The in-
 sufficient illumination, together with the
 packed condition of the seats, made waiting tedious, and provoked an English gentleman
 with gray Bhiskers who sat in the center of the parquet to say, ID a voice that was audi ble for several feet roundabout, that this WAS
 'too too" The impatient expression, how
 ever, had hardly passed his lips when the crystal chandeliers gave preliminary crackle
 and blazed forthwith the light of monday. The audience stirred and smiled, and, with
 much rustic and buzz, adjusted itself. The
 
 sisted of tall red screen, which stood as g background. two heavy carved chairs of fifteenth century design, 8 frail and lofty
 pulpit or reading desk, with firm and wide spreading legs, and slender table close at | hand, supporting a delicate ground glass tumbler, and g crystal hagon filled with white
 and impid water
 At the side of this stage, at s:30 or there
 abouts, door noiselessly opened and man ana vision appeared. The vision, which
 was round-shouldered, glided half way across the stage and sank into one of the fifteenth century chairs. A noise filled the house tha was half applause and half laughter The
 man advanced to the desk, pronounced few
 unheard words of introduction, bowed, and quilted the stage The vision arose and stood
 behind the desk, and Oscar Wilde and hist first New York audience made the se1uain- 1 tance of each other.
 The poet was tall, but modified his height to due measure by rounding his shoulders. His hair, brown, waving and fluffy, was part ed in the middle, and fell, like that in the pictures of Charles IL, to his shoulders. His face looked forth as between g set of soft window curtains. white. beardless, smiling. and mild. The features were of Irish, much toned down. prominent, but not strong. The brow-the little triangular area to be seen of it, that is-was wholly placid and unmarked, and the eyebrows were neat, delicate, and arched, of the sort coveted by woman He wore a swallow tailed coat of the ordinary pattern a white waistcoat, low cut and double buttoned, pair of black knee brooches, black silk stockings, and low-counter shoes. His broad expanse of shirt front was pune tured in the exact centre by 8 diamond stud, and a fine handkerchief was thrust negligent ly in between it and his waistcoat. A ribbon and seal dangled below the latter garment. His collar turned down, not very wide and 1 not cut very low, and white silk tie was evenly knotted beneath it. His upper and lower parts to sum up, were picturesque, | and his middle section mathematical and commonplace.
 The first greeting accorded to the poet as he advanced to the slender pulpit and bent a | leg which was quite as slender in order to put foot upon the base of it. was an un- mistakable and rude giggle. His face re- tained it's placid expression as he laid the manuscript of his lecture upon the desk and | bowed. He began immediately to read, and the giggling quickly subsided. Eyes which had exchanged unmistakable opinions with | other eyes fixed themselves interestedly enough upon him. and the audience assumed the appearance of audience in ordinary. His delivery was monotone not once inter- rupted. His emissions of huu1or even were { delivered in the regular intonation, and they gathered piquancy doubtless from the fact. \ After ten minutes, save when joke dropped I in the audience alone asserted itself, and 8Ir. Wilde sounded like a schoolboy scanning Horatio's first ode. He had his lecture pret- l ty well committed, and he read with his head thrown back and his large eyes rowing softly back and forth between the galleries. Two of his sutterances.which provoked mirth were these: Satire is the homage which ig- norance pays to genius ''To disagree with l three -fourths of all England on all points is one of the first clements of sanity" An idea of his manner of intonation may be conveyed l in this sentence ''Redts-vas a pure-and supe-rior artist"
 It was not long after the beginning of the lecture that the audience began to evince symptoms of weariness. Opera glasses were l levelled toward all points, and people more and more showed an interest in one another. 1 Gray headed and bald men, though plainly I they tried hard, could not avoid looking l sheepish. 4 whispering rose in the back seats and crept gradually through the centre auditorium. At the end of an hour men who were alone took to fumbling their facial ! features. and smiled vaguely. But the young poet kept on, his brow serene and his smile | still with him, and all he did for his own re- l lief was twice to elevate his right foot in l place of his left foot and once to elevate his | left foot in place of his right foos. It was after 10 when his cadence ceased, and he i bowed The audience rose at once, ard he had passed through the little door before they remembered to applaud him. They applaud | ed then and he came back and once more | bowed. Audience and poet then separated | for the night.