A beggar had never been known in this country, and to see them in such numbers, fills the inhabitants with horror; but why should such trifling considerations as the preservation of soldiers, prevent a general in chief from eating out of silver dishes? We have neither public nor private balls, nor any amusement except now and then a little scandal. The most current at this moment is, that Madame Le Clerc is very kind to general Boyer, and that her husband is not content, which in a French husband is a little extraordinary. Perhaps the last part of the anecdote is calumny. Madame Le Clerc, as I learned from a gentleman who has long known her, betrayed from her earliest youth a disposition to gallantry, and had, when very young, some adventures of eclat in Marseilles. Her brother, whose favourite she is, married her to general Le Clerc, to whom he gave the command of the army intended to sail for St. Domingo, after having given that island, as a marriage portion, to his sister. But her reluctance to come to this country was so great, that it was almost necessary to use force to oblige her to embark. She has one child, a lovely boy, three years old, of which she appears very fond. But for a young and beautiful woman, accustomed to the sweets of adulation, and the intoxicating delights of Paris, certainly the transition to this country, in its present state, has been too violent. She has no society, no amusement, and never having imagined that she would be forced to seek an equivalent for either in the resources of her own mind, she has made no provision for such an unforeseen emergency. She hates reading, and though passionately fond of music plays on no instrument; never having stolen time from her pleasurable pursuits to devote to the acquisition of that divine art. She can do nothing but dance, and to dance alone is a triste resource; therefore it cannot be surprising if her early propensities predominate, and she listens to the tale of love breathed by General Boyer, for never did a more fascinating votary offer his vows at the Idalian shrine. His form and face are models of masculine perfection; his eyes sparkle with enthusiasm, and his voice is modulated by a sweetness of expression which cannot be heard without emotion. Thus situated, and thus surrounded, her youth and beauty plead for her, and those most disposed to condemn would exclaim on beholding her: "If to her share some female errors fall, Look in her face, and you'll forget them all." I suppose you'll laugh at this gossip, but 'tis the news of the day, nothing is talked of but Madame Le Clerc, and envy and ill-nature pursue her because she is charming and surrounded by splendor.