The Sun.
London, England, 1812-10-22 00:00:00

Lr.TTER
MADE:IIOISL LE-DE CLA ,JN

(Coniclaeled from oar. Paper of I'l-Way.)
One night, during 'warm. weather. the keeper of
the privy pprse and L.not thinking of the hoar,
or. the,:apparition, had opened the window, and
woe=ioaning over the balcony, when the struck
eleyep. At.this, moment I,Ve beard the usual re•
port of the musket, which drove us-irito the middle
.Of the room, where we lay as if struck dead.—
As. scion as we were.recovered of our fright, and
had found that we bad received no' hurt, We'oom-

pared- notes, ant found that each of us had re-
ceived a violent cuff, he, on the left side of. the

head, and Lon the right. Recovered from our
fright, we laughed most immoderately, like two
fools as we were. 'rile fii\t night npthiug parti-

cular happened but the, .night alter, being iu-
,vited by Modemoiselle_Dumenil, to make one 'lva
party at her house, I got into a hackney coach to
go thither about eleven o'clock, .accompanied liy
my waiting-maid. It happened to be a . clear
moon-light night, and as the coach passed along
the Boulevard's, which was then nearly built over,
and whilst I was taking notice of the houses that
had been erected, my attendant aAed me it it was
not here M. de S. died% To this question I re-
plied, that, according to: what" had been told, it
must be in one of those two houses, pointing at_
.

the sArhe time with my finer. lanediately the
,
report. ot a ghn was heard, as beforc,at my:house,
smilingly issuing -front one of the. two I had.
pointed at. The coachfiran, supposing 'svewert:
attacked by robbers; whipped his horses to mend
their,,pace, and we arrived at Mademoiselle
rnenil's, in a state of mind more easily to be con-
ceivedthan described. For my own part, I did
not recover front the fright for a considerable

time. But, after this night,
.the same noise 'MIS
never heard more : another, like that of clapping

hands, succeeded it.
This was continued, and appeared to he regu-
lated according to tithe,' or measure. As the lo-
dulgence of the public had accustomed me to, hear
sonnds'of that sort very freqUently, I was inatten-
tive to these until some of my friends remarked to
me, their having taken particular notice that this,
noise was repeated constantly at my door at the
hour of eleven. "We hear it very distinctly,
(said they), and yet we see nobody ; this must
certainly he something of the some kind with
those noises you nave heard before." -
M there appeared nothing so very frightful in
this noise, as in the others before heard, I have
lost the reCollection of the length of its corm.-
nuance. As little did I attend to certain melo-
dious sounds which Uheard some tithe after-,
.wards. It'Seemed as if some fine voicewas, pre-
luding or humming over an air, preparatory to the
execution of . The sounds seemed to begin at
some little distance from' my door, and to cease
when arrived at it ; and, as in the cases already
related, they were followed, vere distinctly heard,
yet nothing was ever discovered thatecould occa-
sion them.
At the end of about two years and a half, no-
thing extrr ordinary was ever beard by me., or any
of my family. 'About that time, I found the house
I occupied, from its neighbourhood to the market,
and the number of persons inhabiting under the
same roof, to be disagreeable. i wished for a
more quiet situation, not,only on account of the
necessity of it, in order that I might pursite rvy
studies without interruption, brit because my
health, which' was declining, required it. Be-
sides, I was somewhat more easy in point of cir-
cumstances, and I wished to improve them still
more. I was told of a house in the Rue du, Ma-
rais, which went at the rent of twelve hundred
, livres. They informed me that it had been been-
pied for forty years by Racine ; that it was io ibis
very house that he had composed his immortal
works; and that he had died in it; tbA, after
his death, it' had been inhabited by the, pathetic
Lecouvreur, and that she likewise had died in it.
The very walls of such a Mansion, (thought I)
will inspire ine with the sublimity of the author,
and the pathos 'of the actress ; this shall he my
dwelling-plocel; therein 'will I and
.therein
'will I die, ! Accordingly I agreed to take it; and
I affixed a bill upon the apartments I was about
to quit.
Amongst the numbers who were in search of a
house to reside in, . there, were many who came
'out of curiosity to look at mee As l was.rarely to.
be seen off the stage, sonic people were desirous
to view me when at home,. and without the dis-
guise of the theatre. They wished to hear what
I should' say, when:l had no speech .put into my
mouth from the 'works
.of Racine; Corneille, or
Voltaire. lam inclined to hope, that I have not
less morality off the stage than on it;. and that
my conduct and sentiments are decently con..is-
tent ; but von know that me stature is diminutive,
and..you must Undoubtedly have heard it asserted,
that 1 was near six feet high. Now, as at homei,
I employed none of those artifices which I prat-
tised at the theatre, I was.there wholly mySelf,
and I feared lest people; finding the shorter than
they expected, might report me to be shotter..than
1 am. Iliad learned,- that whoever expects to bee
nefitby an intercourse with men, must endeavout
to deceive- them'; fortunatelyfor me, my country-
men Were at that time little given to' make re-
flections on 'things, and I had -1,--eaSon to think
they believed that I grew daily taller and to
you will say, why this digression ?• You;
story is already span out' to too great a heng`th.
A truce with • ythir remarks; lad finish your-nar-
rative.
I confess yodr reprehension is very just ; but
you asked me for this history ; I know not what
you mean to do with it, yet I think I ought to
omit no circumstance -.elating to it; there is not a
single word that 1-trace with my pen but brings
to my recollection how near you are to my heart.
Is it my fault if my feeling heart continues to de-
ceive roe, in spite of. years, sickness, and misfor-
tune? It is to'you 1 write.; lam inclined to be-
lieve that you attend to my little narrative, and
will over-look the tedious dulness of it, with all
that good humour which renders you so dear to
your friends-, and gains you so Much esteem in all
the societies of which you 'make a part. Alas !
it is with regret that I quit these pleasing ideas to
pursue the sequel of my story.