The Marchioness was very impatient to know what the fixed stars were. Are they inhabited, like the planets? said she, or are they not peopled? What can we make of them? Perhaps you would find out what they are, answered I, if you were to try. The fixed stars cannot be at less distance from the earth, than twenty-seven thousand, six hundred and sixty times[49] the earth's distance from the sun, which is thirty-three millions of leagues: perhaps some astronomers would tell you they are farther still. The space between the Sun and Saturn, the most distant planet, is only three hundred and thirty millions of leagues; that is but a trifle in comparison of the distance between the sun, or earth, and the fixed stars, in fact, we don't take the trouble to compute it. Their light, as you perceive, is brilliant: if they received it from the sun, it must be very faint after travelling such an immense journey, and by reflecting it to us it would be still more weakened. It would be impossible for light, which had twice gone such a long space, to appear so bright as that of the fixed stars. They are therefore luminous in their nature, or in other words, they are so many suns. [Footnote 49: Or even two hundred thousand times.] Do I mistake, cried the Marchioness, or do I see your drift? Are you not going to say "the fixed stars are all suns: our sun is the centre of a vortex which turns around him; why should not each fixed star be also the centre of a vortex, turning round it? Our sun enlightens planets; why should not every fixed star likewise enlighten planets?" I need make no other answer, replied I, than Phœdrus made to Enone: _thou hast named it_.