One of the strongest objections to Olbers’ hypothesis is that only a few of the first asteroids discovered travel in orbits which measurably satisfy the requirement that they should all intersect at the point where the explosion occurred. To this it was at first replied that the perturbations of the asteroidal orbits, by the attractions of the major planets, would soon displace them in such a manner that they would cease to intersect. One of the first investigations undertaken by the late Prof. Simon Newcomb was directed to the solution of this question, and he arrived at the conclusion that the planetary perturbations could not explain the actual situation of the asteroidal orbits. But afterward it was pointed out that the difficulty could be avoided by supposing that not one but a series of explosions had produced the asteroids as they now are. After the primary disruption the fragments themselves, according to this suggestion, may have exploded, and then the resulting orbits would be as “tangled” as the heart could wish. This has so far rehabilitated the explosion theory that it has never been entirely abandoned, and the evidence which we have just cited of the probably abnormal shapes of Eros and other asteroids has lately given it renewed life. It is a subject that needs a thorough rediscussion. We must not fail to mention, however, that there is a rival hypothesis which commends itself to many astronomers—_viz.,_ that the asteroids were formed out of a relatively scant ring of matter, situated between Mars and Jupiter and resembling in composition the immensely more massive rings from which, according to Laplace’s hypothesis, the planets were born. It is held by the supporters of this theory that the attraction of the giant Jupiter was sufficient to prevent the small, nebulous ring that gave birth to the asteroids from condensing like the others into a single planet. But if we accept the explosion theory, with its corollary that minor explosions followed the principal one, we have still an unanswered question before us: What caused the explosions? The idea of _a world blowing up_ is too Titanic to be shocking; it rather amuses the imagination than seriously impresses it; in a word, it seems essentially chimerical. We can by no appeal to experience form a mental picture of such an occurrence. Even the moon did not blow up when it was wrecked by volcanoes. The explosive nebulæ and new stars are far away in space, and suggest no connection with such a catastrophe as the bursting of a planet into hundreds of pieces. We cannot conceive of a great globe thousands of miles in diameter resembling a pellet of gunpowder only awaiting the touch of a match to cause its sudden disruption. Somehow the thought of human agency obtrudes itself in connection with the word “explosion,” and we smile at the idea that giant powder or nitro-glycerine could blow up a planet. Yet it would only need _enough_ of them to do it.