OF GARDENS.

THE earth is the garden of nature, and each fruitful country a paradise. The Turks, who pass their days in gardens here, will have gardens also hereafter, and delighting in flowers on earth, must have lilies and roses in heaven. The delightful world comes after death, and paradise succeeds the grave. The verdant state of things is the symbol of the resurrection; and to flourish in the state of glory, we must first be sown in corruption.

OF LIGHT.

LIGHT that makes things seen, makes some things invisible. Were it not for darkness and the shadow of the earth, the noblest part of the creation had remained unseen, and the stars of heaven as invisible as on the fourth day, when they were created above the horizon with the sun, or there was not an eye to behold them. The greatest mystery of religion is expressed by adumbration, and in the noblest part of Jewish types we find the cherubim shadowing the mercy-seat. Life itself is but the shadow of death, and souls departed but the shadows of the living. All things fall under this name.

The sun itself is but the dark "simulacrum," and light but the shadow of God.

OF ORDER.

NIGHT, which Pagan theology could make the daughter of chaos, affords no advantage to the description of order; although no lower than that mass can we derive its genealogy. All things began in order; so shall they end, and so shall they begin again, according to the ordainer of order and mystical mathematics of the city of heaven.

OF SLEEP.

THOUGH Somnus in Homer be sent to rouse up Agamemnon, I find no such effects in these drowsy approaches of sleep. To keep our eyes open longer were but to act our antipodes. The huntsmen are up in America, and they are already past their first sleep in Persia. But who can be drowsy at that hour which freed us from everlasting sleep? or have slumbering thoughts at that time when sleep itself must end, and as some conjecture, all shall awake again?