A ludicrous occurrence to myself took place at one of the masquerades in the theatre mentioned. The families that occupy the lower tier of boxes are commonly of the middle classes, as the floor is so high as to destroy every thing like retirement in them. The masks pass them, of course, and stop, at will, to converse with those who are not masked. Passing one of these boxes, I was struck with the singular beauty of a girl of about seventeen. Her costume was exceedingly pretty, and her face the very _beau idéal_ of all that was classical and perfect. I was so much charmed with her appearance, that I went in quest of two or three friends, that they might not lose so rare a sight as a perfect beauty. The admiration was general, and the beauty received our homage with a coy consciousness that served to heighten her charms. At length the party to which she belonged left the box, and made its appearance in the sala. Two of us followed it with a view of getting a nearer sight of the beauty, in order to ascertain whether we could detect any blemish or not. As I was quite near her in the crowd, she spoke, and then, like Slender in the Merry Wives of Windsor, I discovered, by as croaking a voice as ever sang discordantly in the throat of fifteen, that “it was a great lubberly boy!” A classical outline, fine eyes, paint, and dress, had deceived us all. The effect of these masks is such, at times, as to render the legends of Romance less improbable than skeptics fancy. I have been amused at meeting several of our own people in these scenes who would hesitate about being seen in them in America. One may judge of the amount of freedom in private actions, in the land of steady habits, in particular, by watching the course of its children when out of it. A boyish freak came over W——, an evening or two since, on observing a clergyman of New England standing in the midst of the dancers and masks, and he resolved to trot him. He went up and told the parson, in broken English, that there was a person there who was looking for him in every direction, and, if he was willing, he, W——, would conduct him to the place where the other might be found. The parson consented, with a good face, and he was forthwith led up to and introduced to the most conspicuous devil of the evening. The priest took the thing good-naturedly, and W—— left him with his regular enemy, to battle the matter as best he might. I do not mention this circumstance with a view to censure this gentleman for being at a masquerade, but simply to contrast it with what is done at home. Cant never yet aided true religion, or protected morals, but, like the supervision of meddlers, it is certain to make hypocrites—the most odious of all sinners. This parson was a liberal at home; a fact that is infinitely to his credit.