* * * * *

It is with this ease and lucidity that Sir John deals with scientific subjects of the greatest importance,—­his genius resembling the elephant’s trunk, which can balance a straw or rend an oak.  In private life he displayed a simplicity of manner in harmony with the general unassumingness of his character.  In his books as in society, in society as in his books, he was the same,—­that is, free from all ostentation, free from self-pride, free from the arrogance of superior knowledge, and as ready to unbend himself to a child as to discourse with men of science.

His career was a tranquil and a prosperous one, and, apart from the record of his discoveries and his honours, presents nothing of interest.  He was peculiarly happy in his domestic relations; and in the wide circle of friends attracted by the mingled charm of his intellect and manners.  A devout Christian, a man of generosity and culture, a philosopher of great breadth of view and infinite patience of research,—­we can place few better or brighter examples before our English youth than Sir John Herschel.

CHAPTER V.

We could not conclude our notice of this remarkable family without some further allusion to its not least remarkable member—­Caroline Lucretia Herschel.

To her varied accomplishments, her astronomical researches, and, above all, to her unwearied and unselfish devotion to her brother William, we have already made frequent allusion.  She seemed to live for him and in him, to live for his fame and prosperity; and she poured out at his feet the treasures of an inexhaustible affection.  To assist him in his labours, at whatever sacrifice, was her sole object in life; and she was certainly more careful for his reputation than was he himself.  During his declining years she was his principal stay and support, and she was in daily attendance to note down or to calculate the results of his observations.  His death was a severe blow to her; but, with characteristic courage, she retired to Hanover, gave herself up to scientific pursuits, and in comparative solitude spent her later years.

Her biographer writes:—­

“When all was over, her only desire seems to have been to hurry away.  Hardly was her brother laid in his grave than she collected the few things she cared to keep, and left for ever the country where she had spent fifty years of her life, living and toiling for him and him only.  ’If I should leave off making memorandums of such events as affect or are interesting to me, I should feel like what I am,—­namely, a person that has nothing more to do in this world.’  Mournful words! doubly mournful, when we know that the writer had nearly half an ordinary lifetime still between her and that grave which she made haste to prepare, in the hope that her course was nearly run.  Who can think of her, at the age of seventy-two, heart-broken