There is no reason why one should not do this, if only one could get along fast enough. It would have to be very rapid travelling. If you wished to keep that star in sight, overhead, for twenty-four hours, you would have to do--what do you think? You would have to rush _round the whole world_ in twenty-four hours! If you could possibly manage to do that, you might possibly choose any bright star overhead that you liked, and keep it in view all night; in fact for two nights, with no day between; for you would journey _with the night_. Or if you chose to follow the Sun by day, keeping him overhead in your rapid rush over continents, and mountains, and oceans, you might have a double day of twenty-four hours, with sunshine all the while and no darkness. But think what such a rush would mean! Think how big the world is! People sometimes do travel all round the whole earth, and the journey takes them many months. Even if they stopped to look at nothing by the way, and went as fast as possible, and cared nothing about being tired--even then, at the very least, it would take them many weeks. To get round the world, on the Equator, or from England, or from the United States, or from Australia, in twenty-four hours, is a thing which no living man could ever do! The Sun and the stars go much too fast for us. They are seen to whirl round the whole earth, swiftly and calmly and easily, with no manner of fuss or difficulty, once in every twenty-four hours! Ah! but do they? That is the question. Do they really all whirl round and round, at this rate? When you take a journey in a train, and look out of the window, what do you see? Everything seems to be moving. The more distant hills travel slowly; fields and villages speed at a good rate; houses and hedges near at hand rush by; and the telegraph poles flash past as if running away. But one house does not go one way and another house in the opposite way. All of them journey in the same direction. Do they really journey? Are the fields and hills, the villages and trees and telegraph poles, all spinning swiftly along, while you in your train sit quite still, not moving at all? It must be one of the two things: either _they_ are on the move, and you are quiet; or else they are quiet, and _you_ are yourself rushing along, so that they only seem to move. You would not have much difficulty in deciding. Even if you did not feel the carriage in which you sit to be shaking and jarring with its own rush, still you would count it easier to believe that the train was going forward than to think that all the hills and fields and trees and houses were speeding the opposite way. It is almost the same thing with our earth. We see the Sun, and the Moon, and all the stars, hurrying past, and we have to believe one of two things: either _they_ are all moving, and we are still; or else _we_ are moving and that makes them only seem to move.