re and Sidon; but the chief interest to me were
the vans in which the fish were carried from Lowestoft to London--light
spring-carts with four wheels and two horses, that, after changing horses
at our Spread Eagle, raced like lightning along the turnpike-road, at all
hours, and even on Sundays--a sad grievance to the godly--beating the
Yarmouth mail.

Now and then, even at that remote period, when railways were not, and
when Lowestoft was no port, nothing but a fishing-station, distinguished
people came to Lowestoft, attracted by its bracing air and exceptional
bathing attractions. I can in this way recollect Sir Edward Parry and M.
Guizot. But there were other personages equally distinguished. One of
these was Mrs. Siddons, with whom an old Dissenting minister--the Rev. S.
Sloper, of Beccles, whom I can well remember--contracted quite an
intimacy. She had already passed the zenith of her celebrity.
'Providence,' writes my friend, Mr. Wilton Rix, of Beccles, in his 'East
Anglian Nonconformity,' published as far back as 1851, 'had repeatedly
and recently called her to tread in domestic life the path of sorrow, and
her religious advantages, however few, had taught her that

'"That path alone
Leads to the land where sorrow is unknown."

'"Sweet, sometimes," said she, "are the uses of adversity. It not only
strengthens family affection, but it teaches us all to walk humbly with
God." It is not surprising that she was disposed to cultivate the
society of those who could blend piety with cheerfulness, and with whom
she might be on friendly terms without ceremony. Such acquaintances she
found in Mr. Sloper's family. Mrs. Siddons, with unassuming kindness,
contributed to their amusement by specimens of her powerful reading. She
joined willingly in the worship of the family, and maintained the same
invaluable practice at her own lodgings.' Mr. Rix continues: 'Just at
that time Mr. Sloper was requested to preach to his own people on an
affecting and mournful occasion, the death of a suicide. Though he
keenly felt the delicacy and difficulty of the task, a sense of duty and
a possibility of usefulness overcame his scruples. He selected for his
text the impressive sentiment of the Apostle, "The sorrow of the world
worketh death." Mrs. Siddons was one of his auditors. She, who had been
the honoured guest of Royalty, who had been enthroned as the Tragic Muse,
and whose voice had charmed applauding mul