the stars, seated at a distance almost infinite from us, pierce
quite through it, without difficulty, and in an instant, to light
our eyes. Had this fluid body been a little less subtle, it would
either have intercepted the day from us, or at most would have left
us but a duskish and confused light, just as when the air is filled
with thick fogs. We live plunged in abysses of air, as fishes do in
abysses of water. As the water, if it were subtilised, would become
a kind of air, which would occasion the death of fishes, so the air
would deprive us of breath if it should become more humid and
thicker. In such a case we should drown in the waves of that
thickened air, just as a terrestrial animal drowns in the sea. Who
is it that has so nicely purified that air we breathe? If it were
thicker it would stifle us; and if it were too subtle it would want
that softness which continually feeds the vitals of man. We should
be sensible everywhere of what we experience on the top of the
highest mountains, where the air is so thin that it yields no
sufficient moisture and nourishment for the lungs. But what
invisible power raises and lays so suddenly the storms of that great
fluid body, of which those of the sea are only consequences? From
what treasury come forth the winds that purify the air, cool
scorching heats, temper the sharpness of winter, and in an instant
change the whole face of heaven? On the wings of those winds the
clouds fly from one end of the horizon to the other. It is known
that certain winds blow in certain seas, at some stated seasons.
They continue a fixed time, and others succeed them, as it were on
purpose, to render navigation both commodious and regular: so that
if men are but as patient, and as punctual as the winds, they may,
with ease, perform the longest voyages.