At the period of her retiring from the stage, Mrs. Siddons was gradually rising to the acme of public favour; but this did by no means excite in her any thing like envy or discontent, and she on all occasions readily bore testimony to the merit of her rival. On one occasion only, did she express herself in a manner, which might have led the hearer to suspect, that her opinion of Mrs. Siddons was not exactly conformable to that of the public.—She was in a box at the theatre, on some occasion when Mrs. Siddons appeared in one of her most popular characters, and immediately behind her were two Gentlemen, who were extravagantly loud in their applause. Among other specifications of her excellence, one of them highly extolled her voice, observing that her voice was like that of a man. Upon this, Mrs. Yates turned round, and said with a smile, “It is the first time I ever heard it remarked, by way of compliment to a lady, that her voice resembled that of a man.” It seems indispensable in one, who knew her for many years with the greatest familiarity of friendship, to render, as far as possible, an act of justice. It was maliciously reported, and too generally believed, (for the most unsupported calumnies, like the wildest aberrations from the simplicity and purity of the gospel, are always certain of meeting with friends and proselytes) that in the decline of life, she indulged in habits of inebriety. The writer of this article may boldly assert, that he never witnessed the smallest appearance of any such irregularity, nor could discover any propensity to improper indulgence of any kind. One fault she had, which, with respect to the unfortunate object concerned, was attended with very fatal consequences. Mr. Yates had a niece, who was educated at his expence somewhere in France. On her removal to England, she was received into the house of her uncle, and was a sort of humble companion to the Lady. Mrs. Yates was hasty and passionate, and, on the least provocation from this poor girl, she would, by way of punishment, order her into the kitchen. The consequence may easily be anticipated—she married the footman. The calamities in which she was afterwards involved, exceed the ordinary degrees of human suffering. She was discarded by her relations, her husband turned out exceedingly worthless, and she was left a widow and a beggar with several children. Miss Yates had a brother, who was a lieutenant in the navy, an amiable and ingenious man; but his story would carry us beyond our bounds, and has little to do with our more immediate object. He was shot in his attempts to get into his uncle’s house, to whose property he thought, as heir at law, he had just claim. He also left a widow in distress. What the ultimate fate was of these truly unhappy people, was not known when this was written.