On the 9th I received the papers with your short but sweet letter, and according to your direction they are by this time at their destined places, all but Struve’s and Bessel’s; the latter, I was obliged to leave to the care of Encke, and Struve’s to Schumacher. I am particularly obliged to you for your second Catalogue of double and treble stars, which on reading it once over, makes me long for the time when I shall be perfectly at ease to take it up again; for, by the manner in which you gentlemen now attack the starry heavens, it seems that there will soon remain nothing to be discovered. You mention that Mr. Baily intends to bring Flamsteed’s omitted stars into a Catalogue; I send you a few errata, as I am not sure of having carried them into the copy I left with the three volumes of Flamsteed’s works. And in the list of your father’s MS. papers, in the packet “Auxiliary Article,” is a Catalogue of omitted stars arranged in order of R. A. (a copy of one which I gave to Dr. Maskelyne in 1789). This, may perhaps save some trouble to Mr. B. in arranging them. Some time ago Count Kupfstein sent me a copy of Littrow’s observations to look at (Part VII. of forty-three sheets large folio), which he publishes at the order and expense of the Emperor. The copy was for the University of Göttingen; but I could only admire the fine paper and beautiful print, as I do not understand the manner in which observations are made with the new invented instruments, for at the time I made a fortnight’s visit to Greenwich, in 1798, they had only the mural quadrant and the meridian passage instruments. I must conclude for want of time; and, to say the truth, I am fatigued, for I cannot sit up for any length of time, till eight or nine o’clock in the evening, when I find myself always the most fit for society, or a little business. The weather has been too warm for me, and I have done nothing but sleep in the mornings and afternoon, and the worst is that everybody goes to bed between nine and ten, and then I have no society but those I can meet with in a novel. The few, few stars that I can get at out of my window only cause me vexation, for to look for the small ones on the globe my eyes will not serve me any longer. Tell your dear mother she must not give me the slip, for I will and cannot mourn for anyone more that I love. I remain, &c., &c., C. HERSCHEL. [Sidenote: 1827. _Continuation of her History._] MISS HERSCHEL TO J. F. W. HERSCHEL. _Sept. 25, 1827._ DEAREST NEPHEW,—