Soon after the event referred to, her distinguished nephew, Sir John F. W. Herschel, wrote a letter to the _Athenæum_, in which he stated that notwithstanding her advanced age and bodily infirmities, Miss Herschel was still in the possession of all her faculties.
But although she was not called to die when she had just begun to live, nor to quit her investigations for ever when she had just begun to learn how to study; the hour of her departure was at hand. Gold cannot bribe death. Human power and grandeur cannot save from the grave. Genius cannot elude the king of terrors. The rich and the poor, the learned and the unlearned, the wise and the foolish, meet together here:—
“Their golden cordials cannot ease Their painèd hearts or aching heads; Nor fright nor bribe approaching death From glittering roofs and downy beds.
The lingering, the unwilling soul, The dismal summons must obey; And bid a long, a sad farewell, To the pale lump of lifeless clay.
Hence they are huddled to the grave, Where kings and slaves have equal thrones; Their bones without distinction lie Amongst the heap of meaner bones.”
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.