Imagina according to the laws of reflection of light, the water, or natural type of the laws of reflection of truth; tion. which are, that the angles of incidence and reflection are equal; or in other words, that if we receive the truth truly, or directly, in ourselves, we shall reflect it truly, or directly, to others; but if we receive it obliquely, or erroneously, from dislike, or mistake, or prejudice, we shall reflect it in the same manner, and mislead others, as we have deceived ourselves. Hence, of all the possible angles of the reflection of light, as well as reception of it, two only are quite true in themselves, though they may all convey an accurate image of different errors; and all the rest are more or less imperfect; viz. the direct, or perpendicular, or vertical ray, which typifies true reception of religious truth, and has no refraction at all in us, but only a reflection (in the same straight line back again to the spiritual sun) of gratitude, love, praise, and glory. This ray goes directly to the centre of the heart, without turning to the right hand or to the left, and it is therefore a cubic, or religious influence. The other true angle is the moral one of 45°, whose reflection is the same on the other side of the perpendicular, thus completing the square angle, and rightly dividing the word of moral " truth." Hence the delusions of imagination, with respect to truth, are innumerable, particularly in those on whom Water, or the day of life, whether natural or spiritual, is tion. just rising, and consequently is very oblique. Imagina If the sun is but a few degrees above the horizon, all its rays will be oblique to the lake, but they will be direct to many parts of the earth, such as rising grounds. This represents the state of childhood, with respect to the light of truth. The mind is very feebly enlightened, on account of the level of water, which lies horizontally by nature; but the more elevated parts of the heart, or genuine sentiments, are more truly enlightened at this age, than they will be at a more mature period, in some respects. That is to say, they receive the light of truth more directly by sentiment, though not in understanding, because they are more simple and upright, or sincere; and the light, being full of heat, they feel its genial power, without much knowledge. Thus filial and brotherly love are felt more strongly at this beautiful period in the heart; but the mind does not measure the proportions of their angles; neither is it necessary, until the gradual decrease of direct heat in those parts, renders the assistance of mental light more requisite. But again, if we consider, that as the day advances, every one of the objects thrown on the lake, is altered at every moment; some vanishing, and new ones appearing; those that were oblique, becoming more direct, and the Imagina same inversely; those that were dark becoming Water, or more luminous, and those that were enlight- tion ened becoming obscure, until midday; which denotes the rectification, by degrees, of our early prejudices and errors, (viz. obliquities,) and a like gradual discovery of truths which we formerly considered as errors. What an almost infinite source of confusion and distraction is this lake! Yet it is exactly the same with the human imagination, which changes its views every moment during the progress of the day of human life, and gives rise to those continual differences of opinion, in the same as well as in different persons, concerning the same things. We often consider these changes as whimsical and absurd in others, without reflecting, that it is, and must be nearly the same with ourselves, according to our situation, and the degree of our imagination, and the temperament of heart. Those who have but little in proportion to their other ingredients, cannot comprehend the situation of those who have much. Thus the sole mathematician considers the poet as a vain, useless, idle dreamer, whose pictures are only gilded clouds, without water. He looks into his own, perhaps, less expanded lake, and not finding them there, though it may be much deeper, he concludes that they are mere visions, or vapours, by which he really means nothings. Again, let any number of spectators view Imagina tion. Water, or the same objects in the same lake a few hours afterwards. They will be so altered, that the spectators will hardly know them again. That is to say, from the arc, described by the progress of light, (or knowledge of truth,) in the interim, they will see the same objects in a quite different light. Yet the objects are the same! Let them also, if possible, view in the evening the objects which were gilded by the rising sun; they will appear not only different, but opposite, and quite dark. Yet there is no effect without an adequate cause. The visions of childhood and youth are not nothing, as we are apt to suppose when we become old and forgetful; they proceeded from light, as ours do now, and they were as specious at that time, as ours are now real. The difference is, they were seen by morning light only, and ours are seen by the evening light also; they only saw one side, but we have seen both. Hitherto, we have supposed the surface of the lake to be quite smooth and unagitated, which seldom happens altogether; but let a wind arise, and the surface will be immediately broken into innumerable surfaces, in different planes, altering, multiplying, breaking, and mixing the several images which they reflect in the most disorderly and indescribable manner. Such, also, is the case in the human lake, when spirits of any kind blow, or act upon our Imagina imaginations, whether of curiosity, fear, love, Water, or jealousy, hatred, &c. &c. a chaos of incoherent, tion. absurd, broken, monstrous images is immediately produced, which are as mutable, indistinct, and fallacious as those of the ruffled lake! Again, it is the peculiar property of the imagination to collect images of things, from all parts of the visible and invisible worlds, which however distant and unconnected in reality, or in reason and truth, it rapidly and often very speciously combines in the same object of the mental picture, and in one point of sight, as congruous, or as one. This is what we call extempore wit, and sometimes folly, according to our own temperament, and mood, and according as the real differences are thrown into the shade, and the seeming coincidences are brought forward into a strong glare of oblique light. For specimens of this wit, I might refer to the celebrated Mr. Pope, who abounds with the most brilliant points, all of which will not stand the test of examination. Now a lake of water performs the same wonders with equal ease and speciousness, and strength of colouring. Thus it shows us in the same plane surface, or subject of speculation, the images of things in the heavens, and things on the earth, within a few feet, or close to each other, although we know, upon further reflection, that |