J. F. W. Herschel.
P.S.—Have you heard how M. Pfaff’s translation proceeds? I wrote to him from Cattagione, in Sicily.
1824. Her Nephew’s Travels.
Munich, Sept. 17, 1824.
My dear Aunt,—
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I had originally intended to have gone to Switzerland from Inspruck, or from this place, having a great desire to visit the north of Switzerland, and to make certain observations among the Alps, but my wish to see you once more, to assure myself and to be able to report to my mother how I find you—to pay my uncle Dietrich a visit—and, though last, not least, to see my father’s birth-place—these considerations outweigh the attractions of Switzerland, and, although the increase this détour will make in the length of my journey homewards is so considerable as to limit my stay in Hanover to two or three days at the utmost, I shall at least have had the satisfaction of not neglecting an opportunity which may never occur again.
The time when I hope to arrive I cannot precisely fix, as it will depend on circumstances which may occur in my route, having so arranged as to take in a variety of objects interesting in various ways, thus:—I shall go somewhat out of my way to visit Professor Pfaff, at Erlangen, and I hope also to find Mr. Encke at Seeberg, Mr. Lindenau at Gotha, Messrs. Gauss and Harding at Göttingen, &c. Moreover, I hope there will not take place a resurrection among the bones in the cave at Bayreuth before I get there. These things necessarily interrupt post haste, besides which there are always delays in passing frontiers, and accidents happening to wheels, springs, screws, &c. Allowing for these, however, I think it cannot be less than a fortnight, nor more than three weeks from the date of this when I shall have the happiness of once more shaking you by the hand, and I need not say what satisfaction it will give me to find yourself and my uncle, Mrs. Herschel and their family in good health, as well as our good friends the Beckedorffs, Detmerings and Haussmann, with whom it will be a great pleasure to me to renew my acquaintance. You have heard, I daresay, through my mother, of our poor friend, Miss Deluc’s death. Mrs. Beckedorff will have been much grieved at it.
I hope you have not forgotten your English, as I find myself not quite so fluent in this language as I expected. In fact, since leaving Italy, I have so begarbled my German with Italian that it is unintelligible both to myself and to everyone that hears it; and what is very perverse, that though when in Italy I could hardly talk Italian fit to be heard, I can now talk nothing else, and whenever I want a German word, pop comes the Italian one in its place. I made the waiter to-day stare (he being a Frenchman) by calling to him, “Wollen Sie avere la bontà den acete zu apportaren!” But this, I hope, will soon wear off.
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