y have opened before us is a romance, it is at least
a romance more seriously and perseveringly handled than any other in the
annals of literature.

A vulgar and a plain man would unavoidably ask the astronomers, How came
you so familiarly acquainted with the magnitude and qualities of the
heavenly bodies, a great portion of which, by your own account, are
millions of millions of miles removed from us? But, I believe, it is not
the fashion of the present day to start so rude a question. I have just
turned over an article on Astronomy in the Encyclopaedia Londinensis,
consisting of one hundred and thirty-three very closely printed quarto
pages, and in no corner of this article is any evidence so much as
hinted at. Is it not enough? Newton and his compeers have said it.

The whole doctrine of astronomy rests upon trigonometry, a branch of the
science of mathematics which teaches us, having two sides and one angle,
or two angles and one side, of a triangle given us, to construct the
whole. To apply this principle therefore to the heavenly bodies, it is
necessary for us to take two stations, the more remote from each other
the better, from which our observations should be made. For the sake
of illustration we will suppose them to be taken at the extremes of the
earth's diameter, in other words, nearly eight thousand miles apart from
each other, the thing itself having never been realised to that
extent. From each of these stations we will imagine a line to be drawn,
terminating in the sun. Now it seems easy, by means of a quadrant, to
find the arch of a circle (in other words, the angle) included between
these lines terminating in the sun, and the base formed by a right line
drawn from one of these stations to the other, which in this case is
the length of the earth's diameter. I have therefore now the three
particulars required to enable me to construct my triangle. And,
according to the most approved astronomical observations hitherto made,
I have an isosceles triangle, eight thousand miles broad at its base,
and ninety-five millions of miles in the length of each of the sides
reaching from the base to the apex.

It is however obvious to the most indifferent observer, that the more
any triangle, or other mathematical diagram, falls within the limits
which our senses can conveniently embrace, the more securely, when our
business is practical, and our purpose to apply the result to external
objects, can we rely on the acc