miles, but the reader can refer back to the number of billion miles in a light-year! And what is beyond that? No one has seen, nor can any one guess. We cannot imagine a limit to space; neither can we imagine unending space dotted with an infinity of suns! It is a legitimate and, indeed, a necessary inference, from what we know of these millions of suns—intensely hot, light-giving spheres—that they, too, like our own sun, are accompanied by much smaller bodies, planets which circle round them, as our sun’s planets circle round him. Those planets have cooled down, as have those of the solar system, and so do not give out light. In any case, they are too small to be seen at so vast a distance. It is, on the whole, probable that the changes on some—indeed, many—of these planets have led to the production of living material similar to, but not necessarily identical with, that on this earth. It is, on the whole, more likely than not that there are intelligent beings existing on the planets of thousands of suns invisible to our eyes: suns revealed only by the print on a photographic plate of their light, which has taken thousands of years to travel from the regions of unseen obscurity to us. To have arrived by sober observation and reasoning at this conception is, indeed, a tremendous flight of human thought and ingenuity! It is the courage, the audacity—one may almost call it the superhuman calmness—of astronomers, in the face of this truly overwhelming immensity—that not only redeems their study from the oppressive and terrifying character with which it at first assails the human spirit, but gives to their proceedings and discoveries, so far as the ordinary man can follow them, an unequalled fascination. The daring, the patience, the accuracy, and the supreme intellectual gifts of the great astronomers rightly fill other men with pride in the fact that there are human minds capable of revealing things of such stupendous vastness and of indicating their order and relation to one another. It is a splendid fact, and one which must give hope and courage to all men, that the astronomer’s mind does not totter—it is equal to his task. Astronomers are, in fact, triumphant: they are very far indeed from suffering from the depression which Mr. Hardy’s young star-gazer experienced.