But I beg and trust you will continue to bless me with your good opinion and approbation, until the close, for that I have hitherto been in possession of the same, I conclude from the kind letters I receive from your own hands.... [Sidenote: 1832. _Enters her eighty-third year._] MISS HERSCHEL TO LADY HERSCHEL. HANOVER, _March 14, 1832_. MY DEAREST NIECE,— Your precious letter, which I received this morning, has relieved my mind from the fear that some ill might have befallen my dear friends, because in my solitude the time between January 7th and March 14th, seems to be an age; besides, the last melancholy letters required some soothing subject to think on, for I do nothing else but think of the spot where I once was and never can be again. But now all is well; your dear letter will make me happy for some time to come, and in my next I will more fully reply to it, when I hope to be more composed than I am just now, as the day after to-morrow will be my birthday, when I, _perhaps_, enter on my eighty-third year. I am always at the return of that day what one may call “hipt,” and therefore must destroy my thoughts any how as well as I can. I kept my dear nephew’s birthday last week, the 7th of March, by thinking of you throughout the whole day. When I was at dinner, I made my maid stand opposite to me, and pouring her out a glass of wine, made her say, Sir John Herschel, lebe hoch! (for ever). But I must hasten to say that which I wish you to know as soon as possible, which is, to beg of all things not to send the parcel the good Miss B. intended for me. I suppose it may consist of some dress of my dear departed sister.... I beg your acceptance of it for a remembrance of us both; it would vex me to add anything I set store on, only to leave it to those I cannot esteem. * * * * * I am much obliged to my dear nephew for sending the few pages announcing the publications of the Royal Society. It is only such morsels as these which keep up a desire for living any longer. But the premium of the King of Denmark’s medal, for the discovery of telescopic comets, provokes me beyond all endurance, for it is of no use to me. One of my eyes is nearly dark, and I can hardly find the line again I have just been tracing by feeling on paper. Pray do not forget me when my nephew’s recension of Mrs. Somerville’s works makes its appearance.... TO SIR J. F. W. HERSCHEL. HANOVER, _April 20, 1832_. MY DEAREST NEPHEW,— * * * * *