demonstration of a game of billiards, I was under the impression that some of the intricacies of the plot of VICTOR HUGO'S _Notre Dame_ were being very cleverly explained to me in easily followed dumb show. Perhaps the best thing (barring the Irish song) in the whole piece is an ingenious dance of Warders and Prisoners in Scene I., Act 2. In alluding to the list of the company I should not have forgotten to say that the names of that admirable comedian Mr. H. LESLIE and that evergreen queen of burlesque, Miss E. FARREN, are conspicuous by their absence. In spite of this very serious drawback, no doubt Miss _Esmeralda_ will be as successful as it deserves to be. The scenery, dresses, and music, are alone worth a visit. And when I say this I leave out the acting, the singing and the dancing. I also went to the Royal Aquarium the other afternoon, and witnessed the performances of a troupe of genuine Russian Wolves. If I _had_ to appear in public myself with a company of performing animals, I think I should prefer poodles, or white mice, though, as a spectacle, wolves are undoubtedly more thrilling. I don't know that these particular wolves did much; but the really striking fact, of course, was their condescension in doing anything, and it was certainly "pretty to see" them jumping a gate, and arranging themselves picturesquely on chairs, with just sufficient display of grinning jaws to make the audience congratulate themselves that the stage was fenced round by temporary iron railings. The creatures are evidently deeply attached to the Professor, who has so ably prepared them for public life. I was convinced of this by the effusion with which one after another advanced and kissed his forehead, on receiving a slight hint to that effect from a whip. But to be kissed--however tenderly--by a wolf, must be a creepy sensation. On the occasion when I was present we were afforded an additional, and I may say an unrehearsed, sensation after the act-drop fell. There was a scurry behind, a shout, and then--a great jagged rent in the curtain. People in the front row of stalls looked uncomfortable--it did seem very much as if one of the wolves had determined to "take a call" on his own account, but it was merely a little mishap with one of the railings. However, there was no real cause for alarm in any case, for an audience would have had ample time to escape while the wolf was amusing himself with the orchestra, which, fortunately, is a remarkably good one.