_October 10, 1778._ Mrs. Scott to Mrs. W. Robinson.—“... He” (Rev. Wm. Robinson, who had published a political pamphlet,) “has won the heart of the wax-worker, Mrs. Wright. Mr. Roweller went to see her performances, and, in conversation, asked her if she had seen the pamphlet. She told him she was charmed with it, had sent over a great number into her country, and assured him the author would be adored there; and desired, if he knew him, that he would tell him, that if he liked her or either of her daughters, they were entirely at his service. One of the girls cried out, ‘Lord, mamma, we never saw the gentleman. We may not like him!’ ‘I don’t care a farthing for that,’ replied Mrs. Wright; ‘if he likes you, you shall marry him!’” Ladies of another quality come upon the stage in the following chapter. CHAPTER X. _December 20, 1778._ Mrs. Scott to Mrs. Robinson, Denton.—“... Miss Coke is a most extraordinary character, and, in my opinion, a most contemptible one, though I suppose she thinks herself a heroine. I have great compassion on one who blushes at her frailties, or rather her vices, for I hate those mincing names, designed only to palliate wrong actions; but I detest a woman who glories in her shame, and sets the world at defiance. Such desperate spirits should not be clad in feminine bodies. They are fit only for Sixteen-string Jack and his brother ruffians. Your daughter may in due time fall in love; nay, tho’ not very probable, she may even fall, in a stronger sense of the word; ... but I will venture to answer for her never being one of those intrepid damsels who brazen out their vices, and, without any change of countenance, raise blushes on the cheeks of all their sex. If she ever does ill, she will do it sneakingly; will feel the censure of others, and, suffering for her own, will rectify her errors. However, I am apt to believe she will escape clear of any of this nature. “... The new singer at the Pantheon is said to be the most extraordinary that ever was heard; unlike every one that ever sang before; very much like a bird, and the compass of her voice far above whatever was known. She has one hundred guineas a night. When, in infancy, she was taken out of a ditch, after a boar or a hog had devoured one fesse,—_car elle est aussi mal partagée que la suivante de la Princesse Cunegonda_,—who would have imagined she could ever be so great a lady? All her charms are centred in her voice; for she is exceedingly ugly.” _December 31, 1778._ Mrs. S. to Mrs. R.—“On my brother (William) Robinson’s return from Burfield, he will be in better spirits, as a light heart and a thin pair of breeches is a conjunction he has little notion of. I fancy when he feels the gain of godliness in his pocket, he will be mighty alert and joyous, and have a better idea of a merry Christmas than he has ever yet formed.” Mrs. Montagu’s letters now succeed.