I am glad you are removed again to Kensington, where you are within a few hours’ reach of all who are dear to you (a blessing I never enjoyed throughout all the years of my long life). But I must get in another strain; only when I am writing to you (in particular) I cannot help comparing the country in which I have lived so long, with this in which I must end my days, and which is totally changed since I left it, and not one alive that I knew formerly, except my dear Mrs. Beckedorff; through her means I have, however, been introduced to many valuable ladies of rank and amiable qualities, but to keep up their acquaintance I am obliged to sacrifice my ease and required quiet, which I have still vanity enough to do sometimes.
A fortnight ago I paid my respects to the Landgräfin of Hesse-Homburg (who looks younger and handsomer than when we saw her as a bride at Slough the day before she left Windsor); it was by her desire I made the visit, and I was honoured with a salute at parting, by way of showing we were friends (as she was pleased to say), and a desire to repeat my visit soon.
... I wish also to know on what subject the late Alex. Stewart may have wrote, for that he was an author I know, but I never saw any of his works and might most likely not have understood them, for you know I had no time to read anything for my improvement, but was obliged to be poring for ever over astronomical tables and catalogues, &c.
Another thing I wish Miss B. to inform me of. The 30th November the Royal Society opens with choosing their President and Council; I wish for a list of their names, and likewise of the next change of the Astronomical Society of London. But do not wonder at my being so inquisitive about these things. I cannot think of anything else which could interest me more than to see the names of learned men on paper, especially when I see any of those I have known among them. Besides, as in December our concerts begin, where the Duke of Cambridge, on seeing me, generally makes some inquiry after my nephew and family, and what is going on in the philosophical world, one does not always like to stand with one’s mouth open, or to say I cannot tell!...
Mrs. and Miss Beckedorff send their kind love....
Mr. Q., 63, he owns himself, marries a young lady in her teens, but she owns 23; she could not withstand his pretty equipage. He is grown very old and nasty, and good for nothing but to injure his children and grand-children.
God be with you, my dear Lady H.
Believe me your most affectionate sister,
C. Herschel.
TO J. F. W. HERSCHEL, ESQ.