We must not fall into the error, however, of conceiving the somewhat indefinite girdle as at all _remote_, comparatively speaking, from the also indefinite lenticular cluster which it surrounds; and thus, for mere purpose of explanation, we may speak of our Sun as actually situated at that point of the Y where its three component lines unite; and, conceiving this letter to be of a certain solidity—of a certain thickness, very trivial in comparison with its length—we may even speak of our position as _in the middle_ of this thickness. Fancying ourselves thus placed, we shall no longer find difficulty in accounting for the phænomena presented—which are perspective altogether. When we look upward or downward—that is to say, when we cast our eyes in the direction of the letter’s _thickness_—we look through fewer stars than when we cast them in the direction of its _length_, or _along_ either of the three component lines. Of course, in the former case, the stars appear scattered—in the latter, crowded.—To reverse this explanation:—An inhabitant of the Earth, when looking, as we commonly express ourselves, _at_ the Galaxy, is then beholding it in some of the directions of its length—is looking _along_ the lines of the Y—but when, looking out into the general Heaven, he turns his eyes _from_ the Galaxy, he is then surveying it in the direction of the letter’s thickness; and on this account the stars seem to him scattered; while, in fact, they are as close together, on an average, as in the mass of the cluster. _No_ consideration could be better adapted to convey an idea of this cluster’s stupendous extent.