I had intended to keep a day-book to note down how and where I spent my time, and what was passing about me, which was to have served for yours and my nephew’s amusement some day or other. But this I have given up long since, for seeing nothing but lapses of weeks and months where I could have given no better account of myself than that, after the fatigue of getting up and dressing, I fell asleep on the sofa, with a newspaper or other uninteresting subject in my hands, this would only have put me in mind of the useless life I am leading now.

But within the last two months I have been obliged to exert myself once more to answer two letters, one to Mr. De Morgan, the Secretary of the Royal Astronomical Society, the other to Mr. Baily (who I suppose is President), for they have been pleased to choose me, along with Mrs. Somerville, to be a member (God knows what for) of their Society. This, and receiving visits of congratulation (for congratulate they must about all they find—what they call promotion—in the Zeitungen) has really somewhat disturbed me, though Captain Müller and Mr. Hausmann I am always glad to see; with them I can talk about my nephew, for they know him personally, and admire him. The winter else has passed away rather heavily, because the Landgräfin not being here, I had no other opportunity for seeing anything to put me in mind of England, but going to eight or ten concerts, and those, ill or well, I never missed, for there I was always sure to be noticed by the Duke of Cambridge as his countrywoman (and that is what I want, I will be no Hanoverian!), and then inquiries are made about my nephew and his family; even the little princess, twelve years old, who sometimes when there, comes to give me her hand, asking if I have had any letters from the Cape; but now I have seen the last of them, for the family go to England, and will be absent for many months, and where may I be when they return? But Sunday night I sat a full hour on the sofa with the Duke at Mrs. Beckedorff’s, where I go Sundays from seven to nine, where there is nobody but the female part of Mrs. B.’s family, and another old lady, who was absent on account of being not well. Of this our meeting the good Duke knew all along, and good-naturedly came to join our gossip.

1835. Newton and Flamsteed.

Here I have filled my paper with talking of nothing but myself, because I know that my nephew corresponds with all scientific men in Europe, for I hear frequently of extracts having appeared in the papers (of his communications) by Struve, Littrow, &c., and should suppose he will also know what is done at our Society, of which I now am a fellow! and is of course acquainted with what Mr. Baily mentioned in his letter to me, that at the public expense a new edition of Flamsteed’s work is now in print, and that papers have been found at the Royal Society containing a biography by Flamsteed’s own hands, which—but here I transcribe what Mr. B. writes:—“I lament very much, in common with every friend of science, that Newton’s name is mixed up with transactions that show him in a different light from that in which we have generally received his character. But justice to Flamsteed’s memory would not allow me to suppress any portion of his autobiography.”

Now we talk of biographies, I have no less than nine of my poor brother, and heard of two more, one by Zach, which I shall try to get sight of. There is but one or two which are bordering on truth, the rest being stuff, not worth while to fret about. The best is accompanied with a miniature of Reberg’s bad copy; but I have ordered a lithograph copy to be taken from the portrait by Artaud; if it turns out correct I will send two copies as soon as they come out.

God bless you both, and the dear children, my best niece.

Ever your most affectionate aunt,

Car. Herschel.

MISS HERSCHEL TO P. STEWART, ESQ.[[48]]

May 25, 1835.