CHIT-CHAT ABOUT THE OPERA. The opening will, we have no doubt, be propitious. Donizetti's Opera of Torquato Tasso should have been presented here before; but its performance will not be the less attractive that it has been delayed. The music is at intervals brilliant, or pathetic in the extreme; and the principal incidents in the life of the great poet of Italy, more especially those which relate to his aspiring passion for the high-born Leonora, attach a more than ordinary interest to the libretto. Of the quality of Signor Coletti's voice (a deep basso) we have heard a very favourable account.

Towards the end of March, that sweet and spirituelle singer, Persiani, will grace the theatre with her presence. Rubini and Lablache will arrive about the same time; and, in addition to the deservedly appreciated representations of last season, two new Operas will be produced; viz. Beatrice di Tenda, one of Bellini's most admired works; and Persiani's Ines di Castro, which has met with such unexampled success in Paris.

Grisi-the divine Grisi-will make her appearance in the first week of April; and two additional new Operas, by Mercadante, will then be produced, Il Giuramento, and Il Bravo. Both these Operas have been highly applauded in Italy.

We are delighted to perceive that on her coming forward in the early part of the month, at the Italian Opera in Paris, Grisi met with a most

cordial reception. She appeared in her favourite character of Normaa character which she has made strictly her own. The Gazette Musicale remarked, that her voice seemed to have lost something of its strength and volume; and that she executed difficulties with a greater appearance of effort than formerly. This circumstance it ascribes to her having been out of practice for several months, and not to any real diminution of vocal power. Il Signor Scrittore must, of course, say something, "I'm nothing if not critical" being the badge of all his tribe; but the truth is (as our private letters inform us), that Grisi was in glorious voice, and that at no period of her life was she in more complete enjoyment of her splendid faculties. What charming artistes (charming in every sense) are GRISI, PERSIANI, and PAULINE GARCIA! They may, in truth, if we look merely to their personnel, be described as the Graces of Song; while, if we duly consider their powers of expression and feeling, of tragic force and passionate ardour, they may be more fitly entitled the Parce of the musical drama.

We trust that M. Laporte's negotiations with Pauline Garcia may be successful; indeed we have no reason to doubt it; and the réunion of this lady with Grisi and Persiani will realise all that the most sanguine lovers of the Opera could desire. At the same time we have to thank our stars that Lablache, Rubini, and

Mario (notwithstanding all anticipations to the contrary), are still preserved to us.

We are gratified to learn that the utmost attention will be paid to the perfection of the choruses.

Great as are the promised musical attractions, those of the ballet are not inferior. Fanny Elssler will appear early in March, in a new ballet, La Tarentule, which has been very successful in Paris; and in the middle of May, Taglioni will make her début for the season, in a ballet composed by her brother-in-law, which has caused the most lively satisfaction at the Imperial Theatre of St. Petersburgh.

The corps de ballet has been judiciously and carefully increased; and the leading dancers in the early part of the season have acquired a high reputation at the Opera in Paris.

On the whole, we anticipate a most brilliant season. We are very much gratified to perceive that the principal subscribers to the Italian Opera in Paris are about to appoint a committee, with a view to erecting a magnificent theatre in the Rue de la Paix, on the site of the stamp-office. Some obstacles were at first interposed; but the Minister of the Interior has expressed himself favourable to the plan, which we cannot doubt, therefore, will be carried into effect. The site is most magnificent.

A JUVENILE BALL AT THE
TUILERIES.

AFTER the " Bals de la Reine," comes the "Bal des Enfans." There is but one of the latter, and that is quite enough it is, indeed, a most diverting fete, but one which causes a violent turmoil in the imagination of all the little girls and boys-the "curled darlings" of modern French aristocracy. A single ball suffices for the recollections of a whole season. There are children who reckon their years by the ball at the Tuileries as the Greeks computed theirs by the Olympiads. They say, "I have reached my second or my fourth ball." And, indeed, the young visitors at these fêtes have one great privilege: they dance the galopade, which at the present day is excluded from nearly all the other

balls in good society. It is an amusing spectacle. Fancy the salle des maréchaux, with its blazing lights, its colossal Cariatides, its old warriors in their gilt frames, their warlike attitudes and grim and scowling looks; and in the midst of this solemn coterie, a troop of five hundred children carried away by the lively strains of the loud resounding music, and swarming, and crowding, and jostling, and romping, and turning, and scampering together, with an impetuosity altogether irresistible, and in inexpressible confusion. A few slip down, but no one thinks of stopping; snatched up again on their feet, the indefatigable ronde whirls them in its eddies and bears them off till the dance is arrested on the sudden by the magical coup d'archet. At this moment the confusion is thrice confounded. The anxious mothers hurry off in quest of their children; but all do not answer to the summons. Some, carried away in the galopade, have lost their way in the gallery of Louis Philippe, in the saloon of the state-council, or in that of the throne, an unexplored country, a terra incognita for them, and in which they find themselves bewildered, to their alarm and surprise, the instant the impulsive force which has hurried them along has ceased; others again, and by far the greater number, are perambulating the long line of buffets laden with sweetmeats and tempting dainties, until the dulcet note of Tolbecque, who, from his sonorous balcony, exercises the mastery and dominion over this very chaos of noise, agitation, and bustle, recals them, by one motion of his magic wand, to the ranks of pleasure, and the delights of the measured dance.

It would be an amusing task to collect all the lively sayings and quick replies, sparkling with a pleasant familiarity and frankness, to which even constitutional thrones themselves are scarcely accustomed. "Have you been well amused?” inquired a very august personage of a little sprightly and intelligent looking girl who was not dancing. "No, sir, was the reply. In fact, I don't like it at all, for my shoe pinches me dreadfully!"