Miss Herschel died on the 9th of January, 1848, in the ninety-eighth year of her age. Her end was tranquil and free from suffering—a simple cessation of life. It seems to be a law of human nature that however long we may have been abroad, and however comfortable our foreign residence may have been, we are yet drawn by old affection to our native country, there to spend the evening of our life. Graciously has Providence implanted within us this desire of returning to the place of our childhood; that being thereby made to feel how valueless this world is in itself, and to yearn after those dear ones who have gone before us, our own preparation for going hence may be advanced. Such, doubtless, were the feelings of Miss Herschel when returning to her native Hanover after many years of activity spent in various other places. Her funeral took place on the 18th of January; the coffin was adorned with palm branches, by order of the Princess Royal, and followed by a royal carriage. A long and useful life had been beautifully closed; and her body was committed to the earth, in the sure and certain hope that her soul was in heaven. Soundly she slumbers in a German tomb: and although the place that once knew her knows her no more, she is not forgotten, but her memory is sweet and fragrant still. _ASTRONOMICAL DISCOVERIES._ Though sitting up all night, especially in winter, doing all the duties of an assistant astronomer to her brother, she found time for a series of independent observations with a small Newtonian telescope, made for her by Sir William. With this instrument she swept the heavens, and discovered eight new comets, in regard to five of which she was the first discoverer. These discoveries were made on August 1st, 1786; December 21st, 1788; January 9th, 1790; April 17th, 1790; December 15th, 1791; October 7th, 1793; November 7th, 1795; and August 6th, 1797. The following account of a new comet was addressed to Charles Blagden, Esq., M.D., F.R.S., and read before the Royal Society, November the 9th, 1786. “SIR,—In consequence of the friendship which I know to exist between you and my brother, I venture to trouble you in his absence with the following imperfect account of a comet.