“The card from Mr. Maretzek which appears in our advertising columns speaks for itself. We are used to such things, and so is he. And probably no one who has watched the fluctuations of the season will be surprised at the abrupt suspension of performances. Italian opera has not prospered in New-York for several years, nor is it likely to prosper until some way is found of collecting better companies and presenting them with a more liberal outlay for the accessories of scenery, chorus and wardrobe than recent managers have felt able to afford. How this can be done is a problem not very easy of solution. The experiment would be a costly one, and probably if the Academy of Music were filled every night, at the present prices of admission, the receipts would not suffice to pay the expenses of a well managed season. The stockholders might raise up the prostrate fortunes of the lyric drama if they chose; they might surrender their right to the three hundred best seats (or at least they might cease to peddle their tickets to outside persons); and they might share the expense of new scenery and decorations, as other theater-owners do, when new operas are to be presented. Of course we have no right to demand anything of the kind. They may do as they please with their own; but their present parsimonious policy is short-sighted, and injurious to the property. Besides the heavy direct tax of the free admission system (the stockholders’ privileges being equivalent to an addition of $130 a night to the rent), there is another way in which this system oppresses the manager still more severely. On ordinary occasions perhaps two-thirds of the stockholders are absent, and not more than half the absentees send other persons in their places. Thus there are usually about one hundred of the best seats empty, including the most conspicuous boxes and places in the front row of the balcony. Now the opera is more dependent upon the whim of fashion than any other public amusement; a majority of the audience are there only because the supposed ‘leaders of society’ are there, and this majority would not go to hear Adelina Patti herself unless there were plenty of silks and diamonds to be seen at the same time. Upon an audience of this kind nothing has so depressing an effect as a row of empty boxes, and a score of vacant chairs in the front row may do the manager more harm than the sharpest criticisms.

“We mention these considerations not to account directly for Mr. Maretzek’s failure, but to show why it is difficult, if not impossible, for any impresario to risk the cost of importing a really good troupe under the present circumstances of the Academy. Mr. Maretzek has tried to carry on a season with two good singers and a scratch company of bad ones; perhaps it was all he could do; in any case he has failed. He made a hit with Lefranc in ‘William Tell,’ but that could not run forever. Lefranc alone, without adequate support, was not enough. Besides, he was overworked, and latterly his singing has given little pleasure to judicious listeners. Miss Kellogg, the manager’s other card, was also tired, but Miss Kellogg alone proved unable to fill the house. She sang several times with Lefranc, and then public interest flashed up for a moment; but the public demanded frequent change; the first and second performance of ‘Rigoletto,’ for instance, in which the favorite tenor and the favorite soprano sang together, were crowded, but the third did not draw. There must be four representations every week (not counting Brooklyn). To say nothing of Miss Kellogg, Lefranc’s voice would not bear such a strain, and his repertory, moreover, is a small one. The season has consequently been a hand-to-mouth struggle for existence, and, since Carlotta Patti is not to be had, there is nothing for Italian opera to do but to die as decently as possible, before Lent kills it. Of course until Mr. Maretzek is removed to some other sphere we need not expect the muse to be quiet in her grave. There is always hope of resurrection while that gentleman remains alive, and, notwithstanding the dismal prospect of the moment, we shall look to him for a new campaign, with perhaps a fresh array of attractions, before the spring is far advanced.”

“The musical public, or at least that portion of it that was not aware of the small degree of encouragement that Mr. Maretzek has received in his present enterprise, will be surprised to learn that it was come to a sudden close. ‘Robert le Diable,’ announced for this evening, with the aid of Kellogg, the new singer Miss Jackson, Lefranc, Lotti and Susini, will not be performed, nor will there be any Italian opera til after Lent. Mr. Maretzek announces that the illness of Carlotta Patti, preventing her from fulfilling her engagements, prevents him from producing Mozart’s ‘Flauto Magico,’ and thus deprives him of the leading feature of his intended season. In a card to the public, the manager frankly declares that he has decided the postponement of the season in order to save himself from losses which he is unable to sustain. We trust that he will feel enabled to resume his enterprise during Easter holidays under better auspices, and will be successful in securing a more generous recognition from the public.

“During the season which has thus abruptly terminated a variety of standard operas have been produced with more or less acceptation. Donizetti has been represented by his ‘Linda,’ Verdi by ‘Un Ballo in Maschera,’ ‘Trovatore’ and ‘Rigoletto;’ Auber by ‘Masaniell’ and Fra Diavolo,’ and Rossini by ‘William Tell.’ Miss Kellogg, the most popular of American prima donnas, and Signor Lefranc, a tenor who at once became a favorite, sustained the weight of the season; but in other departments Mr. Maretzek is well aware that his troupe was not what a metropolitan audience might reasonably have expected.”