In 1781, he announced to the world the discovery of his new planet, of which we shall presently speak. He was immediately appointed private astronomer to the King, by George III., a post which, we believe, was created for him, and died with him, with a salary of £400, and removed, first to Datchet, afterwards to Slough, where he continued till his death, August 23, 1822. During this period he ran that career of patient and sagacious investigation, terminating in brilliant discovery, which has made his name so well known to the world. Little has been published concerning his private life; but the whole results of his mind are to be found in the ‘Philosophical Transactions’ between the years 1782 and 1818. We have not been able to find the dates of his knighthood, or of his receiving the degree of Doctor of Civil Law from the University of Oxford. He married (we cannot find the date) Mrs. Mary Pitt, a widow; and his only son, Sir John Herschel, has selected from the many tasks to which he is competent, that of developing and adding to his father’s discoveries. In the space which we can devote to the astronomical and optical labours of Herschel, we cannot attempt to furnish even the smallest detail of their end and objects, since the catalogue of titles alone would occupy more room than we have to give. We can do no more than address ourselves to the impression which generally exists upon the subject, and which supposes the inventor and the philosopher to be no more than an industrious man with good eyes, clever at grinding mirrors for reflecting telescopes, and lucky enough to point one at a new planet. Such being the common notion, it is not possible to make any mere description of Herschel’s papers an index of his merits. Nor have we here understated the scientific knowledge of the public in general. When Sir John Herschel lately set out for the Cape of Good Hope, the newspapers announced his approaching departure, accompanied by the information that “six waggon loads of telescopes” were on their way to the ship, which was all that was said, except in publications expressly scientific. That one principal object of the son’s voyage was to complete a great branch of astronomy, by doing in the southern hemisphere what the father had done in the northern, was not stated for a very simple reason—that this portion of the father’s labours is hardly known by name to any but astronomers. And it is to astronomers only that Herschel is truly known. The notion entertained of him by others often reminds us of the farmer, who came to him to know the proper time to cut his hay. The philosopher replied by pointing to his own crop, which happened to be rotting on the ground under a heavy rain.