"BIRDS of a feather flock toge"ther."-As gentle doves, who delight in mutual careffes, fly on wings of terror, from those birds whofe fiery eyes threaten hateful ftrife; fo angels of love, must retire with as natural an abhorrence, from the fociety of dark and malignant fpirits. Between no two things nature, does there exift fo irreconcilable an oppofition, as between love and hatred. Water and oil-fire and fnow, may, by the powerful arts of chemistry, be taught to forget their native antipathies, and to rufh together into friendly embraces: But by no arts can tender-hearted love be brought to look with complacency on any appearance of hatred and mifery. And the more ardent our love, the more exquifite will be our diftrefs, at the view of fuch scenes..

PHILANDER, whofe life is a feries of beneficence that reflects honor on hu

man

man nature, was, during the earlier part of his days, ftrangely fond of that moft vulgar practice, boxing. But happening to read Dr. Blair's fermon on gentlenefs, he was brought to fee fo clearly, the beauty and bleffedness of a benevolent temper, that he has ever fince cultivated it as the brightest ornament, and higheft happiness of his life. Philander often now obferves to his friends, that nothing surprises him more than the difference which he finds between the feelings, of the prefent and paft periods of his life. That formerly, when a ftranger to love, the fight of a battle was matter of fun to him; and a broken head, or a bloody nofe, a mere bagatelle, quite a trifle. But that now, were he compelled to fee two men ftriving in battle, and with furious counte. nances and eyes darting hatred, inflic ing cruel blows on each other, he verily believes it would harrow up his foul

and

and fill him with infupportable horror." And fuch, I am confident, would be the feelings of every truly benevolent heart. Now, if we who are but babes in love, and whose hearts ftill retain much of their former hardness and infenfibility, are, notwithstanding, so shocked at the fight of bad paffions; how much more would the bleffed angels, thofe pure fpirits of love, be fhocked at the fight of fuch things? Hence, it clearly appears, that were God to throw open the gates of heaven, and to invite us to enter with all our pride, haughtinefs, fcorn, envy and hatred about us; fo far from being welcome to the angels, we should turn their heaven into hell. It would grieve their generous bofoms, to fee us fo completely damned; and it would equally fhock their feelings to fee us fo perfectly loathsome and abominable; and they would, no doubt, prefer their joint petitions to God, for permiffion to re

Would

tire into fome other part of his dominions, where, far removed from fuch difquieting fcenes, they might renew their joys in contemplating the beauty of each others virtues, and in rejoicing in the greatness of their mutual blifs. we therefore gain a welcome admission into those bleft abodes, where angels and the youngest fons of light, spend their blissful days in joys unknown to mortal fenfe-Let us Love. This is the darling attribute of God; "For God is love." And this is the grace that gives to miniftering fpirits all their furpaffing joys and glories. Washed in this heavenly Jordan, the fouleft leper becomes fresher than the new-born babe. Bathed in this divine Bethesda, the blackeft heart and most malevolent fpirit becomes whiter than fnow. Mark the glorious change. His eyes, lately glaring with infernal fires, now emit the fofteft beams of benevolence.

His

cheeks

cheeks, once pale with envy, now bloom with the rofy-red of joy. His countenance, e'er while dark with angry pafsions, now wear the opening radiance of friendfhip. His voice, lately broken and difcordant with rage, is now fweeter than mufic; his heart, once the den of poifonous adders, is now the abode of gentleft affection; and he who some time ago was the terror or hatred of all who knew him, is now become the delight of each eye and joy of every heart. His admiring friends, view him with tranfport as a dear monument of the mighty power of love; while holy angels welcome him with fweeteft fymphonies, and fill the eternal regions with acclamations of joy. "Behold, this our brother was loft, but is found, he was dead, but is alive."

AND though on our first entrance into the company of bleffed angels, we cannot be half fo loving and lovely as

they