My dearest Nephew,—
On the 17th January I received by the same post your letters of December 30th and January 9th. I should have answered your precious communication of December 30th immediately if I was not in hopes of receiving daily an answer to what I sent on the 28th December. I cannot express my thanks sufficiently to you for thinking me worthy of forming any judgment of your astronomical proceedings, and am only sorry that I cannot recall the health, eyesight, and vigor I was blessed with twenty or thirty years ago; for nothing else is wanting (and that is all) for my coming by the first steamboat to offer you the same assistance (when sweeping) as, by your father’s instructions, I had been enabled to afford him. For an observer at your twenty-foot when sweeping wants nothing but a being that can and will execute his commands with the quickness of lightning [!], for you will have seen that in many sweeps six or twice six, &c., objects have been secured and described within the space of one minute of time.
I cannot think that any catalogue but the MS. one in zones (which was only intended for your own use) would facilitate the reviewing of the Nebulæ, and you are the only one to whom 1885, viz., 2nd and 3rd class, out of the 2500, can be visible in your twenty-foot. Wollaston, who knew this, has given in his Catalogue only 1st and 4th, &c. classes of the first 1000, the second not having been published at that time, and they are without the yearly variation.
Bode has given the first and second Catalogues complete, and calculated the yearly variation to each by de Lambre’s Tables. (See Bode’s preface, p. iv., line 18.) The last 500 were not published yet in 1800, or rather 1801. I only mention this that if you wanted the variations, and had a mind to trust to that catalogue of errors, it would save an immense trouble by copying them. But the more I think of these, the more I doubt if it would not be injuring the places of objects merely (though accurately) pointed out, to calculate them in the same manner as stars repeatedly observed in fixed instruments; and I doubt if your father noticed Bode’s having done so.
You will find undoubtedly many more nebulæ which may have been overlooked for want of time, flying clouds, haziness, &c., especially in those sweeps which are registered half sweep. It is a pity time could not be found for making, as was often intended, a register in which the boundaries of the sweeps, with the nebulæ, were all brought to one time, either to Flamsteed’s or 1790 or 1800. The register in Flamsteed’s time, which is from 45° to 129°, is for that reason the best mem. At the time that register was made, the apparatus for sweeping in the zenith was not completed, and higher than 45° was not used.
If you should wish in the latter part of the summers (when your father was generally from home) to fill up the unswept part of the heavens, you might perhaps discover as many objects as would produce a pretty numerous catalogue. You will see in the register of Flamsteed’s time a curved line which denotes that the Milky Way is in those places, and if you see an L and find a cluster of stars thereabout, I shall claim it as one of those I mentioned in my last letter to you. It was the assistant’s business to give notice when such marks or any nebulæ in the lapping over of the sweep either above or below were within reach, by making the workman go a few turns higher or lower. (N.B. No more than is convenient without deranging the present sweep.) But I am forgetting myself, and fear I am tiring you unnecessarily, and will only add that if your father wanted at any time to review or to show any of his planetary or other remarkable nebulæ to his friends, the time and P.D. was, by the variation of its nearest star in Wollaston’s or Bode’s catalogue, brought to the intended time of observation, and P.D.—comp. of latitude, with allowance for refraction, gave the quadrant for setting the telescope.
But after all, dear Nephew, I beg you will consider your health. Encroach not too much on the hours which should be given to sleep. I know how wretched and feverish one feels after two or three nights waking, and I fear you have been too eager at your twenty-foot, and your telling me that you have been unwell for some months, and now only begin to feel better, makes me very unhappy, and I shall not be comfortable till I see by your next that you are perfectly well again; I am quite impatient to see what you have to say about the parallax of the fixed stars, but on such occasions I am vexed that your father did not live to know of your grand discoveries. You say something of a paper on the longitude of Paris; I hope you will think of Gauss when you have anything new.
Among the letters from your father’s correspondents in alphabetical parcels you will find under the letter P. some of Pond’s, who was about the end of the last century in Lisbon, with an excellent seven-foot telescope of your father’s, and I remember that several letters passed between them about a double star in Böotes.
I am much obliged to you for the sheet of Schumacher’s Astronom. Nachrichten. It is highly interesting to me, and will set many a one right without offending anyone. On looking in the 2nd Catalogue of double stars, No. 104, ζ Böotes, VI. Class, November 29th, 1782, and 3rd Catalogue, No. 114, ζ Böotes, I. Class, April 5th, 1796, I cannot help thinking on the possibility that in the lapse of thirteen years and a half the small stars may have come out from behind the large one. But I beg do not laugh at me for breaking my head about these things, and I will now begin to talk about what I can comprehend.
From your mentioning Mr. South in your last letter, I fear he intends leaving England, at which I should be very sorry on your account, for if I should not live long enough to know you comfortably married, I could only console myself by your having always a Babbage, South, or Grahame to pass your social hours with. If you can meet with a good-natured, handsome, and sensible young lady, pray think of it, and do not wait till you are old and cross. And let me know in time that I may set hands to work to make the bridal robe; here are women who work exquisitely, and at a price within the reach of my purse.
P.S.—Dear Nephew, I have spent too much time in gossiping with your dear mother for saying anything besides, but I am,
The long continuance of the great heat has had so very bad an effect on my feeble frame; and considering my advanced age, I ought not to put off the making a sort of a will, which I would set about with the greatest pleasure if I had anything to leave for which you would be the better. But I am sure you will not be disappointed, for you remember I parted with my little property before I left England (against your good advice) because I thought at that time I should not live a twelvemonth.
From the first moment I set foot on German ground, I found I was alone. But I could not think of separating myself from him, [her brother Dietrich] especially as his health is so very precarious, that I often think he will go before me. At this present moment he is in bed very ill, suffering from weak nerves. But the above is all by way of showing you the necessity for begging you to answer to the following questions.
My sweeper I wish to leave to Miss Beckedorff, and the picture of the Princess of Gloucester to her mother, for the two ladies have been my guardian angels for many years.
Dr. Groskopf is to have the seven-foot reflector, though I know it will only be a relic to him, but it will not be destroyed or sold for an old song. My clothing and such articles of furniture as I have been obliged to purchase, my three nieces may divide themselves in. Your dear father’s publications in five volumes, Bode’s and Wollaston’s Catalogues (full of my memorandums), and one of my Indexes, shall be sent to you. Also a rough copy of the general Index to your father’s observations, and several articles of that sort with memorandums taken from what I have called a Day-book, which at leisure you may look over and afterwards consign to the flames, for I cannot take it in my heart to do it myself.
The observations on double stars by you and Mr. South (so handsomely bound) and the volume sent last, by South, shall I send them to you?—else I leave them to the Duke of Cambridge!—answer required.
Taylor’s tables, will they be of use to you for your godson Babbage?—else they must be only an ornament to Groskopf’s library!—answer required.
I am impatient to have your answer to this stuff, which I am almost ashamed to trouble you with.
My next shall be of a more agreeable subject, and I have only to say,
Dear Aunt,—
You will think me a strange gad-about, but my last, if you have got it, will have prepared you to expect a letter from either the north or south of Europe from me, in short from any country except England. I was then not decided whether to go to Norway or the south of France, but here I am at last, and having a letter-writing day before me and yours of the 8th August in my portfolio, I cannot do better than to answer it.
With regard to the dispositions you mention in your letter, and respecting which you express a wish for my opinion, they are such as it is impossible to do otherwise than approve, and such as the good sense and kindness which marks everything you do has dictated.
I have been rambling over the volcanoes of Auvergne, and propose before I quit this, to visit an extinct crater which has given off two streams of lava at Agde, a town about thirty miles south of this place on the road to the Spanish frontier. Into Spain, however, I do not mean to go,—having no wish to have my throat cut. I am told, however, that a regular diligence runs between this and Madrid, and is as regularly stopped and robbed on the way.
You say you wish for an answer respecting the vol. of observations on double stars, sent by Mr. South and myself, but can I do better than leave such matters to your judgment? At the same time, as having belonged to you they could not but have a value in my eyes beyond my own copy; but pray decide yourself. I have several left.
I regret extremely to hear you feel those little (perhaps not little) inconveniences we are none of us exempt from, arising from the imperfections of human nature, both in ourselves and those we live with. I believe the best receipt for them is endurance and a determination to show ourselves superior to them.
I have my rubs now and then too, but I make up my mind to them as quite inevitable, and arising from causes over which I have no control. I am very sorry to hear of my uncle’s bad state of health.
I must be in England in the beginning of October, or at farthest by the 15th. So, you see, I have no time for Hanover on my way back. It is dreadfully hot here, and I am much disappointed with the place. However, I hope to get one day of intense sunshine while I remain in this latitude on account of some observations on solar radiation I have to make with a new instrument which I made before I left England, and brought with me. I carried it up the Puy de Dome, and was in hopes to have used it at the Great St. Bernard, in Switzerland, but that must now stand over for another year.
Adieu, dear aunt, and believe me—“where’er I go, whatever realms I see”—
My dearest Nephew,—
Within this hour only I received your dear letter, dated Montpellier, Sept. 17th, which I assure you has made quite another (and what is more) a proud woman of me; for your answers to my few questions are so kindly expressive of approbation, that I shall in future not fear to follow my own opinion, which through my whole lifetime I never ventured to do before.
I am glad you did not come to Hanover, for I am sure to part from you once more would finish me before I am quite prepared for going.
The letter you mention having written me before you left England I have not received. The fault does not lie here, for the secretary here takes too much pleasure in sending me my letters.
I must hasten to get my packet away, but will only beg to let me know through Miss Baldwin as soon as you get home of your safe arrival, for I fear you must often be exposed to great dangers by creeping about in holes and corners among craters of volcanoes, but you know best, and I hope you found something....
My dearest Nephew,—
The 1st vol. of the translation of your dear father’s papers is come out. I shall have it in a few days from the bookbinder, and in February, I am told, the next volume will make its appearance. I wish you would inform me as soon as possible if I shall send you a copy, that I may write for one in time to have it ready by the end of December, when the messenger leaves Hanover. It is a pity you cannot have it immediately. The plates are not with the work, but are to be had bound in a separate book (I suppose when the whole is finished).
I long to know that you are arrived safe and in good health in England again, for by your last, dated Montpellier, Sept. 17th, I see that you had then another volcanic mountain to visit, besides an observation to make on solar radiation with your new instrument; the very thought of it puts me in a fever all over—at this present moment, though we have no longer to complain of heat; so I beg you will inform me that your health has not been injured, and that you have not been totally disappointed in your researches.
I lead a very idle life, my sole employment consists in keeping myself in good humour and not be disagreeable to others.
Groskopf tells me the translation of your father’s papers causes a great sensation among the learned here in Hanover.
My dearest Nephew,—
I received your letter of the 18th November, the day before yesterday, therefore fifteen days old, which is pretty well considering the time of year. I hope this will reach you soon, for I have longed very much to give you an account of the last parcel of papers you sent, which I only deferred till I had received an account of your safe arrival in England by your own hands.
The parcel which you gave to Mr. Goltermann on the 18th August arrived here by the messenger on the 3rd November, and five days after (which it took me to dry the copies, for the messenger had met with storm and accidents at sea, and some of his boxes had been under water), viz., the 18th Nov., I sent to Göttingen, according to direction, with a note, to Gauss. And those to Bessel and Encke I enclosed with Bode’s copy, and wrote a letter to the same by way of thanks for some kind enquiries he had made after me; and now I see that fourteen days after this good man [Bode] departed this world in his eightieth year, but I have no doubt he has delivered the papers immediately, for he had no illness, and was at his last hour at his writing-table employed with writing the Berliner Jahrbuch for 1830.
The copies were, after being dried, perfectly clean, no stain remaining, and that they were so long detained is not the fault of Mr. G., for the Michaelmas messenger was the first that went after the 18th Aug. In the parcel I found also the letter you wrote before leaving England, which I concluded to have been lost, but now all is safe.
Sun and Comet.—At Hanover totally cloudy, and by what I can learn from a certain astronomical gossip, Prof. Wild, it has been so throughout all Germany, for he has had no account that anything has been seen on the 18th Nov. On the 17th it is mentioned (in the Zeitungen, I believe) a large spot on the sun to have been observed at Frankfort, but the 18th being cloudy it could not be pursued.
In your observations with the twenty-foot you mention a Mr. Ramage as having observed with you; and in another place you speak of his twenty-five-foot reflector. Pray tell me something about this gentleman, for I never heard his name before, and if I had not been so fortunate as to have seen Babbage and South just before I left England, I should not now have the comfort to know you had so estimable friends to communicate with; and I shall rejoice to know that the number of valuable men I have known, and are no more, might be replaced by some who are worthy to be contemporary with the son of your father!
You ask, as it were, if I were satisfied with the way in which you have mentioned me in that paper? If I should answer honestly I should say not quite, for you set too great a value on what I have done, and by saying too much is saying too little of my brother, for he did all. I was a mere tool which he had the trouble of sharpening and to adapt for the purpose he wanted it, for lack of a better. A little praise is very comfortable, and I feel confident of having deserved it for my patience and perseverance, but none for great abilities or knowledge. But of this you will perhaps be a judge, as I am now gathering from loose memorandums a little history of my life during the years from 1772 to 1788....
You mention a monkey-clock, or jack, in your paper. I would only notice (if you mean the jack in the painted deal case) that Alex made it merely to take with me on the roof when I was sweeping for comets, that I might count seconds by it going softly downstairs till I was within hearing of the beat of the timepiece on the first floor (at that time our observatory) all doors being open. Your father never used it except when polishing the forty-foot....
In about three weeks the messenger leaves Hanover, and I will send you the first volume of the translation of your father’s papers; but I shall not order ten copies as you desired, till you give me further orders, for I do not think you will be pleased with the work, and it seems there is not much call for them. Dr. Luthmer says, Pfaff was not the man who ought to have attempted such a work, it ought to have been a Bessel.
To your dear mother and Miss B. I beg to be kindly remembered,
Dearest Nephew,—
You will with this receive the only volume of the translation (printed on bad paper, without the prints, &c., &c.,) which is out at present, and unless you desire me in your next to send you ten copies, I shall only take one which can serve us both.
I certainly will do as you desire, and tell you the amount, if at any time you should want some expensive publication, as our bookseller here can get by return of post from Leipsic whatever is ordered. But as to trifles, I beg you will never think about, as I should be at a loss for proving that you, my dearest nephew, are daily in my mind, when I am lavishing sums on nieces and grand-nephews, and nieces who care not for me, nor I for them. But enough of this; only write me sometimes what you and your astronomical friends are doing.
I was much gratified to hear that Mr. South had received the medal. Groskopf has seen it announced in the papers, where your name was also honourably mentioned; these are the morsels for me to feed upon, for here are no astronomers but one, Dr. Luthmer, who observes Jupiter’s satellites, as you may see by the Berliner Jahrbuch, which I suppose you have, as usual, else I have got them from ’23 to ’29, and could send them.
I must write a line yet to your dear mother and Miss B., and will conclude with wishing you a merry Christmas and a happy New-year (as the saying is), and with loves and compliments wherever they are due, &c., &c.,
P.S.—My brother is at present tolerably well, but I hardly ever knew a man of his age labouring under more infirmities, nor bearing them with less patience than he does; the rest are well enough![35]
Dearest Nephew!—
I have more than once asked if you would have my history, but my question has never been answered, and I am (though unwillingly) obliged to send it off without having received your permission....
Perhaps I have told you nothing but what you have known long since; but as my thoughts are continually fixed on the past, I was, as it were, conversing with you on paper, not choosing to trust them to any one about me, for I know none who would understand me, or whom it can concern, what my own private opinion and remarks have always been about the transactions that continually passed before my eyes. But there can be no harm in telling my own dear nephew, that I never felt satisfied with the support your father received towards his undertakings, and far less with the ungracious manner in which it was granted. For the last sum came with a message that more must never be asked for. (Oh! how degraded I felt even for myself whenever I thought of it!) And after all it came too late, and was not sufficient; for if expenses had been out of question, there would not have been so much time and labour and expense, for twenty-four men were at times by turns day and night at work, wasted on the first mirror, which had come out too light in the casting (Alex more than once would have destroyed it secretly if I had not persuaded him against it), and without two mirrors you know such an instrument cannot be always ready for observing.
But what grieved me most was, that to the last, your poor father was struggling above his strength against difficulties which he well knew might have been removed, if it had not been attended with too much expense. The last time the mirror was obliged to be taken from the polisher on account of some obstacle, I heard him say (in his usual manner of thinking aloud on such occasions), “It is impossible to make the machine act as required without a room three times as large as this.”
But when all hope for the return of vigour and strength necessary for resuming the unfinished task was gone, all cheerfulness and spirits had also forsaken him, and his temper was changed from the sweetest almost to a pettish one; and for that reason I was obliged to refrain from troubling him with any questions, though ever so necessary, for fear of irritating or fatiguing him; else there was work enough cut out for keeping me employed for several years to come, such as making correct registers of the sweeps in which all Nebulæ were to be laid down and numbered, complete Catalogues, &c. But what I most regret is, that I never could find an opportunity of consulting your father about collecting the observations made with the 40-foot into a separate book from the journals, into which they were written down among other observations made with the other instruments in the same night. I know besides that many must have been lost, being noted only either on slates or on loose papers, like those on the first discovery of the Georgian Satellites. Owing to my not being, as formerly, the last nor the first at the desk (generally retiring as soon as the mirror was covered), the memorandums were often mislaid or effaced before I had an opportunity of booking them. But I ought to remember that suchlike incomplete observations were made under unfavourable circumstances. For instance, the P. D. clock disordered by not having been used for some time; the timepiece not having been regulated, nor every one of the out-door motions wanting oiling or cleaning; company being present; the night not perfectly clear; and, in general, the first night the instrument is used after it has been left at rest for some time, it cannot be expected that all should go on without interruption or ease without a good mechanical workman had spent best part of the day in looking over all the motions, in doing which your father used to find great pleasure.
But what I most lament is, that between the interval before your coming to the age of forming a proper opinion of the instrument, it had nearly fallen into decay almost in all its parts. But we have all had the grief to see how every nerve of the dear man had been unstrung by over-exertion; and that a farther attempt at leaving the work complete became impossible.
But, by the description of the forty-foot telescope given in the Philosophical Transactions, May 18, 1795, it may be seen what a noble instrument had been obtained by all the exertions described in my narrative; but from that description so briefly given there, no idea can be formed with what accuracy and nicety each part of the whole had been executed to make it an instrument fit for the most delicate observations.
P.S.—I must say a few words of apology for the good King, and ascribe the close bargains which were made between him and my brother to the shabby, mean-spirited advisers who were undoubtedly consulted on such occasions; but they are dead and gone, and no more of them! Sir J. Banks remained a sincere well-meaning friend to the last.
Dearest Nephew,—
Through the friendly care of Mr. D—— I am enabled to send you the first and second volumes of Locke, the third volume, I hope, will yet be found, and I shall send it by another opportunity. I know you will prize the book when you know that it was one of your father’s earliest treasures, purchased out of his own little savings, at the age of 18 years[36]—when, along with his father and eldest brother, he was in England with the Hanoverian Guard, which you will see by the date and name, written in his own beautiful handwriting. When in 1758 he again went to England, it was under such unpleasant circumstances that he was obliged to leave it to his mother to send his trunk after him to Hamburg; and she, dear woman, knew no other wants but good linen and clothing, and your dear father’s books and self-constructed globes, &c., were left behind, and served us little ones for playthings till they were destroyed; but no more of this. You must excuse an old woman, especially such a one as your old aunt, who can only think of what is past, and is for ever forgetting the present....
Now, there is gone a Herr von Münighausen, who had asked the same favour, [that of being allowed to take a parcel to England] for they are all very desirous of knowing J. H., and would have called on me, and perhaps I might have had my hand kissed once more. I assure you it is no trifle here at Hanover to have one’s hand kissed, if one cannot count one’s forefathers for sixteen generations back as ennobled; but, alas! he was obliged to go at a moment’s warning; but Dr. Gr. gave him your address, and I hope you will receive him kindly.
My dear Aunt,—
I received yesterday your packet by Mr. Goltermann, containing the ten copies of the first vol. of Pfaff’s translation of my father’s works—with the plates, which are really abominable. However, there is no help for it. I shall destroy those of the Nebulæ. A much more interesting part of its contents is your account of your own history, for which I cannot enough thank you, and it is really one of the most precious documents you could have sent me; every line of it affected me deeply. The point of view in which it places my father’s character is truly noble. You underrate both the value and the merit of your own services in his cause, but the world does you more justice, and his son feels them a great deal more than he knows how to express. I shall preserve this as the most precious thing, and you will add to the obligation you have conferred on me by sending the papers you refer to under the title of No. I.
The Journals and the mettwursts also came safely; the Journals contain some very curious matter not known in England, and which comes very opportunely here, where, I am sorry to say, science is going to sleep.
I have just completed a second Catalogue of double stars, which will be read at the Astronomical Society (of which I now have the honour to be President) on Friday (May 11th) next (if I can get it fairly copied in time). My work in the Review of Nebulæ advances slowly, as I can very seldom get a night or two at proper times of the moon and year to sweep. But I find your Catalogue most useful. I always draw out from it a regular working list for the night’s sweep, and by that means have often been able to take as many as thirty or forty nebulæ in a sweep. I have now secured such a degree of precision in taking the places of objects in the telescope, that the settling stars (which I prepare a list of each night and arrange them in order of R. A. in the working list) cross the wire often on the very beat of the chronometer when they were expected, and not unusually enter the field of view bisected by the horizontal wire of the eye-piece. In short, I reckon my average error in R. A. in determining the place of a new object by a single observation, not to exceed one second of time, and in Polar distance a quarter of a minute. This you will easily perceive to be a considerable improvement in respect of precision, which is more my aim than it was my father’s, whose object was only discovery. I have found a great many nebulæ not in your Catalogue, and which, therefore, I suppose are new. But I won’t plague you any more with this at present.
My dear Lady Herschel,—
It makes my heart overflow with gratitude when I see so many worthy people remember me with kindness, and I particularly rejoice that Mrs. Morsom has borne her misfortunes with such resignation so as to be still able to participate in the society of her friends; of which I am, alas! through the great distance, entirely cast out, and am obliged to trust alone to myself for keeping up my spirits, and to bear pain and sickness, or feel pleasure without having anybody to participate in my feelings. Out of my family connections, however, I can boast to possess the esteem and love of all who are great and good in Hanover, but to a lonely old woman, who is seldom able to go into or receive company, this does not compensate for the want of sympathising relations.
But I have now, by change of apartments, made myself quite independent of anybody. As long as I can do something for myself this will do very well; but I must not meet troubles at a distance. I may, perhaps, be spared a long confinement before I leave this world, else such a thing as a trusty servant is, I believe, hardly to be met with in this city, which, along with the people in it, are so altered since the French occupation and the return of the military with their extravagant and dissipated notions, imbibed when in Spain and England, with their great pensions, which they draw from the latter country, that it is quite a new world, peopled with new beings, to what I left it in 1772. Added to this comes the fear of having my new little English bed (which on my removal I made with my own hands) burnt before I am aware; for, figure to yourself what danger one continually must be exposed to, when, in the house where I live, seven families (besides the floor my sister-in-law and I occupy) with their servants and children, are living, and their firing wood and turf is all carried over our heads. About a month before Easter a great brewery, very near us, burnt down, with many surrounding houses, to the ground. I looked out of the window, and the burning flakes fell on my forehead; besides this, I have had four times the fright of fires at some greater distance.
My dearest Nephew,—
On the 9th I received the papers with your short but sweet letter, and according to your direction they are by this time at their destined places, all but Struve’s and Bessel’s; the latter, I was obliged to leave to the care of Encke, and Struve’s to Schumacher. I am particularly obliged to you for your second Catalogue of double and treble stars, which on reading it once over, makes me long for the time when I shall be perfectly at ease to take it up again; for, by the manner in which you gentlemen now attack the starry heavens, it seems that there will soon remain nothing to be discovered.
You mention that Mr. Baily intends to bring Flamsteed’s omitted stars into a Catalogue; I send you a few errata, as I am not sure of having carried them into the copy I left with the three volumes of Flamsteed’s works. And in the list of your father’s MS. papers, in the packet “Auxiliary Article,” is a Catalogue of omitted stars arranged in order of R. A. (a copy of one which I gave to Dr. Maskelyne in 1789). This, may perhaps save some trouble to Mr. B. in arranging them.
Some time ago Count Kupfstein sent me a copy of Littrow’s observations to look at (Part VII. of forty-three sheets large folio), which he publishes at the order and expense of the Emperor. The copy was for the University of Göttingen; but I could only admire the fine paper and beautiful print, as I do not understand the manner in which observations are made with the new invented instruments, for at the time I made a fortnight’s visit to Greenwich, in 1798, they had only the mural quadrant and the meridian passage instruments.
I must conclude for want of time; and, to say the truth, I am fatigued, for I cannot sit up for any length of time, till eight or nine o’clock in the evening, when I find myself always the most fit for society, or a little business. The weather has been too warm for me, and I have done nothing but sleep in the mornings and afternoon, and the worst is that everybody goes to bed between nine and ten, and then I have no society but those I can meet with in a novel. The few, few stars that I can get at out of my window only cause me vexation, for to look for the small ones on the globe my eyes will not serve me any longer.
Tell your dear mother she must not give me the slip, for I will and cannot mourn for anyone more that I love.
Dearest Nephew,—
Herewith you will receive what I have called No. 1, which was never intended to have met your eye as it is; but, as contrary to my expectation, my No. 2 was so cordially received by you, I had intended to send you only an abridgment of it, because it contains many things which must be very uninteresting and almost unintelligible to you on account of your being unacquainted with the (then) manners and customs of this country, besides requiring to remember that my father and mother were born and educated some hundred and twenty years back. But I must send it as it is, or destroy it immediately, for I feel I shall now never get well enough for making any alteration further than running my eye over it and adding a note here and there where necessary. But I wish not to leave my memorandums any longer to the chance of falling into the hands of officious would-be learned ignorance, to furnish a paragraph in some newspaper or journal.
I will, however, save you and myself the trouble of further apologising for sending you these papers, but just explain my reason for taking a copy of them with me.
When I took my leave of the contents of your father’s library, it was parting from all with which my heart and soul had been engaged for the best part of my life, and I could not withstand the temptation of carrying away with me an index for assisting my memory when in my reveries I should imagine myself to be on the spot where I took leave of all that had been most dear to me.
What is contained in No. 1 I had intended for an everlasting pleasing melancholy subject for conversation with my brother Dietrich, if I should go back again to the place where I first drew my breath, and where the first twenty-two years of my life (from my eighth year on) had been sacrificed to the service of my family under the utmost self-privation without the least prospect or hope of future reward. Or in case I had died in England, it was to have been sent to D., for I wished him to get a more correct idea of our father than what I thought he had formed of that excellent being.