again, if the evaporating surface were to grow Salter and Salter, whence would the winds derive vapour duly to replenish the earth with showers? for the Salter the surface, the more scanty the evaporation. Here is compensation, again, the most exquisite; and we perceive how, by reason of the salts of the sea, drought and flood, if not prevented, may be, and probably are, regulated and controlled; for that compensation which assists to regulate the amount of evaporation is surely concerned in adjusting also the quantity of rain. Were the salts of the sea lighter instead of heavier than the water, they would, as they feed the winds with moisture for the cloud and the rain, remain at its surface, and become more niggardly in their supplies, and finally the winds would howl over the salt-covered sea in very emptiness, and, instead of cool and refreshing sea-breezes to fan the invalid and nourish the plants, we should have the gentle trade-winds coming from the sea in fitful blasts of parched, and thirsty, and blighting air. But sea salts, with their manifold and marvellous adaptations, come in here as a counterpoise, and, as the waters attain a certain degree of saltness, they become too heavy to remain longer in contact with the thirsty trade-winds, and are carried down, because of their weight, into the depths of the ocean; and thus the winds are dieted with, vapour in due and wholesome quantities."—Maury's Sailing Directions, 7th ed., p. 862.
497. The harmonies of the ocean.—Since the offices which, in the operations of the physical machinery of the earth, have been assigned to the salts of the sea, are obviously so important and manifold, it is fair for us to presume that, as for the firmament above, so with that below, the principles of conservation were in the beginning provided for each alike, for the world in the sky and the drop in the sea; that when the Creator gathered the waters together into one place, and pronounced his handiwork "GOOD," some check or regulator had already been provided for the one as well as the other—checks which should keep the sea up to its office, preventing it from growing, in the process of ages, either larger or smaller, fresher or salter. As we go down into the depths of the sea, we find that we are just beginning to penetrate the chambers of its hidden things, and to comprehend its wonders. The heart of man was never rightly attuned to the music of the spheres until he was permitted to stand with his eye at the telescope, and then, for the first time, the song of the morning stars burst upon him in all its glory. And so it is with
