By way of being ready to see anybody by twelve o’clock, I rose an hour earlier than usual, but before I was dressed, Mrs. Beckedorff and Mrs. W. Clarke sent each a beautiful moss-rose and card. Soon after, Mrs. Clarke and General Halkett came; Generalin Borse and daughter brought violets; Frau von Both; Ober Medicinal-Rath Mühry; Miss Beckedorff; Madam Groskopff; Hofräthin Ubelode brought mignonette; Oberjustiz-Rath von Werloff sent crocuses; Fraulein von Werloff sent a card and hyacinths; Dr. Groskopff, Hauptman Buse, Alexis Richter, Major Müller;—all these I saw between twelve and four o’clock, and several for a good while together. I talked and complimented myself into a fever, of course “looked blooming,” and am to live to be a hundred years old. What stuff! After eating my solitary dinner I tried to get a little sleep, as I generally do, but before I could compose myself enough, two of Major Müller’s sisters came and remained two hours with me; after they left me, Fraulein von Werloff sent her companion, a Mademoiselle H., and a sister, to keep me company till ten o’clock. With difficulty, and the help of Betty, I got into bed, but could get no sleep, nor the whole day after. [Sidenote: 1841-1842. _Her Ninety-first Birthday._] MISS HERSCHEL TO LADY HERSCHEL. HANOVER, _July 31, 1841_. MY DEAREST NIECE,— If it was not that I ought to thank you for your kind letter of June 9th, I should perhaps not have now the spirit to take up the pen; but your letters always, especially the last, contain, besides the many consoling expressions, such very interesting information, that I would not for the world risk to lose the monthly sight of your dear handwriting, by omitting to return at least my grateful thanks for your kind communications of what the present philosophers are about. I think I can form some idea of the author of the book on philosophy (and godfather of our little Amelia), from what I recollect to have read some years past in some quarterly publication by a Mr. Whewell, in defence of Sir Isaac Newton. In short, it met with _my approbation_! There is for you! What do you say to that? I do not wish to write in what my dear brother William used to call a Dick Doleful style, when our brother Alexander was in the dismals, and out of which we often succeeded in laughing him. But I cannot just now turn to anything of a cheering nature, for yesterday, the 30th, our Queen died, and I have been very unwell in consequence of the violent change in the weather.... The following letter refers to the intended removal of Sir J. Herschel and his family to Collingwood, which he had purchased:— MISS HERSCHEL TO LADY HERSCHEL. HANOVER, _August 2, 1841_. MY DEAREST NIECE,—