For the last two or three days we have been looking at houses, and have all but agreed for one, a most beautiful place within four or five miles out of town, called “The Grove.” In point of situation, it is a perfect paradise, in rich and magnificent mountain scenery, and sheltered from all winds, even the fierce south-easter, by thick surrounding woods. I must reserve for my next all description of the gorgeous display of flowers which adorns this splendid country, as well as of the astonishing brilliancy of the constellations, which the calm, clear nights show off to great advantage; and wishing we had you here to see them, must conclude with best loves from M. and the children. Your affectionate nephew, J. F. W. HERSCHEL. MISS HERSCHEL TO SIR J. F. W. HERSCHEL. BRAUNSCHWEIGER STRASSE, No. 376, _May 1, 1834_. MY DEAR NEPHEW,— Your precious letter relieved me on the 14th from a whole twelvemonth’s anxiety, for it was in April last year when, by your few brief lines on business, I saw that you were seriously preparing for leaving Europe, and from that time I became in idea a vagrant accompanying you through all the fatigues of preparing for such a momentous undertaking. And if it had not been for the consoling letter of your brother [in law] James, and one from Miss B. giving me an account of the carefully arranged accommodation with which they saw you depart, I should not have known how to support myself till I saw your dear letter, which brought me even more comfort than I could hope you would have found time to think of.... Both yourself and my dear niece urged me to write often, and to write always twice; but alas! I could not overcome the reluctance I felt of telling you that it is over with me, for getting up at eight or nine o’clock, dressing myself, eating my dinner alone without an appetite, falling asleep over a novel (I am obliged to lay down to recover the fatigue of the morning’s exertions) awaking with nothing but the prospect of the trouble of getting to bed, where very seldom I get above two hours’ sleep. It is enough to make a parson swear! To this I must add I found full employment for the few moments, when I could rouse myself from a melancholy lethargy, to spend in looking over my store of astronomical and other memorandums of upwards of fifty years collecting, and destroying all what might produce nonsense when coming through the hands of a Block-kopff in the Zeitungen. [Sidenote: 1834. _Arrival at the Cape._]