It was thus at the very turning-point of her brother’s career that Caroline Herschel became his companion and fellow-worker. No contrast could be sharper than that presented by the narrow domestic routine she had left to the life of ceaseless and inexhaustible activity into which she was plunged;—unless, indeed, it be that presented by the nature of the events she has to record, and the tone in which they are recorded. For ten years she persevered at Bath, singing when she was told to sing, copying when she was told to copy, “lending a hand” in the workshop, and taking her full share in all the stirring and exciting changes by which the musician became the King’s astronomer and a celebrity; but she never, by a single word, betrays how these wonderful events affected her; nor ever indulges in the slightest approach to an original sentiment, comment, or reflection not strictly connected with the present fact. Whether it be to record the presentation of the “golden medal,” or the dishonesty of the incorrigible Betties who then, and till her life’s end, so sorely tried her peace of mind, there is no difference in the style or spirit of the “Recollections.” Partly as apology and partly as complaint, the one grievance is harped on, even when fifty years’ experience might have convinced her that she had done something more for herself and the world than earn her bread by her own labour. “In short,” she writes, “I have been throughout annoyed and hindered in my endeavours at perfecting myself in any branch of knowledge by which I could hope to gain a creditable livelihood.” It is seldom, however, that she is diverted from the main theme to write about herself otherwise than incidentally, and in a note addressed to her nephew, she says:—“My only reason for saying so much of myself is to show with what miserable assistance your father made shift to obtaining the means of exploring the heavens.”