“Shouldst thou spare me, O God, through the year upon which I have entered, O spare me for the benefit of my own soul, for the good of others, and for thy glory. Enable me to read thy word, and to study it with attention and delight: help me to maintain the spirit and practice of devotion in my closet, in my family, and in the public assembly: assist me to deal faithfully with the souls of my people when conversing with them in friendly intercourse, and when addressing them from thy holy word. May I be instant in season and out of season for the conversion of the irreligious, and for the comfort of those that already believe. May the people committed to my charge be preserved from every error in sentiment, and irregularity in conduct, injurious to themselves and dishonourable to thee. May many be added to the church, and may great prosperity attend us. “Shouldst thou, in thy infinite wisdom, see fit to afflict me in my own person, family, or friends, enable me to meet the visitation with a full dependence on thy all-wise providence, and with humble resignation to thy righteous will. And shouldst thou call me from time into the eternal world before the close of the present year, Oh may I die in the faith of that gospel which I preach to perishing sinners, and in the possession and enjoyment of that hope which I have recommended to others, which has heaven for its glorious object, and the atonement and intercession of thy Son Jesus Christ for its firm foundation. Amen.” In the autumn of 1810, Mr. Sloper spent some time at Lowestoft, a distance from home, which allowed him the enjoyment and advantage of the sea air, without seriously interfering with the performance of his pastoral duties. There he became acquainted with the celebrated Mrs. Siddons, who had escaped from the excitement of public life, to the unmolested retirement and invigorating breezes of the same watering-place. That extraordinary woman had a _talent_, rather than a _taste_, for the vocation she pursued. Her natural character was marked by extreme diffidence, and a “benignant singleness of mind.” What was said of her, could have been said, even in poetry, of few actresses: “Behold, dividing still the palm of fame, Her radiant science, and her spotless life.” {217a} She had already passed the zenith of her celebrity. Providence 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.”