Ever since the 6th of March, the day on which I received my dear niece’s of the 26th of February, I have been enabled to dispel by its comfortable contents the gloomy reflections with which I am on the return of your and my birthdays assailed. But being obliged to spend such days alone, at a distance from all who are dear to us; or, what would be worse, in the presence of beings of uncongenial feelings, one is apt to fall again into the dismals, which the return of the late snow and frosty weather prevented my taking recourse to my usual remedy, which is to turn all grievances into a joke. Your birthday I celebrated exactly like that of 1832, viz., after dinner I jingled glasses with Betty, and made her say, “Es lebe Sir John! hoch![46] hurrah!” She went in the kitchen to wash the dishes, and I with a book (a silly novel) in my hand on the sofa asleep!... I begin to be confused, and had rather say nothing of the thousand things which are running in my head, and which all must be said within the next six months. As yet I can follow your steps and proceedings, for I read the papers—the _Globe_—and saw that in June is the meeting in Cambridge.... From these papers I also see how all my valuable acquaintances drop off one after another. Captain Kater has lost his wife, the fine singer; Mrs. Parry; Lady Harcourt; your dear mother, are gone—the latter three of my own age, and I must hold out! TO LADY HERSCHEL. HANOVER, _August 1, 1833_. * * * * * I have now the pleasure of thanking my nephew for his valuable book of astronomy, having actually received it by yesterday’s post, and by a kind letter from Professor Schumacher. I learn that I may yet hope to see the promised Catalogue of nebulæ and double stars, to the perusal of which I look forward as a solace during the time you will be on your way _far, far_ from us. But these treasures cause me no little thinking about in whose hands I shall leave them when I cannot see them any longer, but cannot think of anyone I should like to leave them in preference to the Duke of Cambridge. I cannot find words which would express sufficient thanks to my dear nephew for his last letter, every line of which conveys a comfort. * * * * * P.S.—Dear Nephew, as soon as your instrument is erected I wish you would see if there was not something remarkable in the lower part of the Scorpion to be found, for I remember your father returned several nights and years to the same spot, but could not satisfy himself about the uncommon appearance of that part of the heavens. It was something more than a total absence of stars (I believe). But you will have seen by the register that those lower parts could only be marked _half swept_. I wish you health and good success to all you undertake, and a happy return to a peaceful home in old England. God bless you all!