Paris is now before us,--where to choose is the difficulty. We saw to-day a house in the Rue St.-Honoré, _entre cour et jardin_, a few doors from the English embassy. The said garden is the most tempting part of the affair; for, though the _salons_ and sleeping-rooms are good, the only entrance, except by a _passage dérobé_ for servants, is through the _salle à manger_, which is a great objection. Many of the houses I have seen here have this defect, which the Parisians do not seem to consider one, although the odour of dinner must enter the _salons_, and that in the evening visitors must find servants occupied in removing the dinner apparatus, should they, as generally happens, come for the _prima sera_. French people, however, remain so short a time at table, and dine so much earlier than the English people do, that the employment of their _salle à manger_ as a passage does not annoy them. Went to the opera last night, and saw the _Muette de Portici_. It is admirably got up, and the costumes and scenery, as well as the _tarantulas_, transported me back to Naples--dear, joyous Naples--again. Nourrit enacted "Massaniello," and his rich and flexible voice gave passion and feeling to the music. Noblet was the "Fenella," and her pantomime and dancing were good; but Taglioni spoils one for any other dancing. The six years that have flown over Noblet since I last saw her have left little trace of their flight, which is to be marvelled at, when one considers the violent and constant exercise that the profession of a _danseuse_ demands. When I saw the sylph-like Taglioni floating through the dance, I could not refrain from sighing at the thought that grace and elegance like hers should be doomed to know the withering effect of Time; and that those agile limbs should one day become as stiff and helpless as those of others. An _old danseuse_ is an anomaly. She is like an old rose, rendered more displeasing by the recollection of former attractions. Then to see the figure bounding in air, habit and effort effecting something like that which the agility peculiar to youth formerly enabled her to execute almost _con amore_; while the haggard face, and distorted smile revealing yellow teeth, tell a sad tale of departed youth. Yes, an old _danseuse_ is a melancholy object; more so, because less cared for, than the broken-down racer, or worn-out hunter. Went to Tivoli last night, and was amused by the scene of gaiety it presented. How unlike, and how superior to, our Vauxhall! People of all stations, of all ages, and of both sexes, threading the mazy dance with a sprightliness that evinced the pleasure it gave them.