Love, or desire towards another, takes different forms in the heart. There is the love of _pity_, the love of _gratitude_, and the love of _complacency_. The love of pity regards its object in some sort as _below_ it, and is full of tenderness. The love of gratitude, on the contrary, regards its object as _above_ it, and is full of humility. The love of complacency does not necessarily look either above or below, but simply at its object, and is full of admiration. But, in addition to this, there is the love of _kindred_. It has its foundation in nature, and hence it is called "natural affection." And this love of kindred has a glory which is peculiarly its own. _It warrants the deepest intimacies._ There is no settling of one’s self for the other’s presence. There is full ease in going out and coming in. _Expressions_ of love are not deemed intrusive--nay, they are sanctioned as being due and comely. The heart knows its right to indulge itself over its object, and that, too, without check or shame. This is the glory of this affection. The love of pity, of gratitude, or of complacency, must act decorously, and in proper form. But the love of kindred, the love of those who dwell in one house, and whom nature or the hand of God has bound together, feels its right to gratify itself, and is not fearful of being rebuked. See, for instance, Canticles viii. 1. This is its distinguishing boast. Nothing admits this but itself. This is, in a full and deep sense, "personal affection." Parents and children, brothers and sisters, husbands and wives (and I might add, friends), know this. They know their title to indulge, without scorn or rebuke, in the warmest expressions of their mutual love. And it is the richest feast of the heart. The love of pity has its enjoyment, and so have the love of gratitude and the love of complacency; but they do not, in themselves and alone, warrant these _personal_ fervours. Personally, their objects may be below, above, or at a distance, and should be approached with a due respect to all their rights. But not so with our kindred, because it is their _persons_ and not _their qualities_ or _conditions_, that form the ground of our love. We may deal with them without apology or reserve. In such cases it is _himself_ that the heart embraces. It is not his sorrows, his favours, or his excellencies, but it is himself, which this affection handles and converses with. We may receive a benefit from a person, and be assured of a hearty welcome to it, and yet feel ourselves ill at ease in his presence. Nothing is more common than this. Gratitude is awakened in the heart very deeply, and yet reserve and uneasiness are felt. It calls for something beyond our assurance of his good-will, and of our full welcome to his service, to make us at ease in the presence of a benefactor. And this something, I believe, is the discovery that we have an interest in _himself_, as well as in his _ability to serve us_.