the same, intercourse with fashionable young ladies in London did not give her a high opinion of them or their attainments, "she thought them very little better than idiots."
About three years after his daughter's marriage, Linley withdrew from Bath. His place was supplied by William Herschel, who, to quote Niemeyer's words, "led the band at the theatre, conducted oratorios, and instructed some able pupils in that city." At that time "the Bath orchestra and its pump-room performances were the theme of general commendation in England," and to maintain the same standard of excellence, especially after the Misses Linley's retirement, entailed heavy and unremitting labour on the new director. Whether Herschel entertained the idea or not that he might succeed with his sister Caroline as Linley had succeeded with his two daughters may be open to doubt, but it is unquestionable that he had it in his power to make the trial, and that he did bring her out as a public singer. The gains of success were large and tempting. Miss Linley, now Mrs. Sheridan, was offered a seven years' engagement in London at a thousand a year for twelve nights' singing, and as much more for a benefit. Success held out such dazzling prospects, that the certainty of failure could alone have prevented Herschel from persevering in his attempt to train his sister as a professional singer. And he did not persevere. The lot of Caroline Herschel was not destined to be that of a public singer; it was to be the lot of a woman of science at a time when few of her sex could aspire to that honourable rank. Had William Herschel succeeded in turning out his sister as a public singer, or in placing her on the throne vacated by Miss Linley, would his race for
