the path of duty. Many
a father, from a kind wish to provide well for his family, neglects his
own soul. Here, then, is a fault; not that we can love our relations
too well, but that that strong and most praiseworthy affection for them
may, accidentally, ensnare and corrupt our weak nature.

These considerations will show us the meaning of our Saviour's words
already cited, about the duty of hating our friends. To hate is to
feel that perfect distaste for an object, that you wish it put away and
got rid of; it is to turn away from it, and to blot out the thought of
it from your mind. Now this is just the feeling we must cherish
towards all earthly blessings, so far as Christ does not cast His light
upon them. He (blessed be His name) has sanctioned and enjoined love
and care for our relations and friends: Such love is a great duty; but
should at any time His guidance lead us by a strange way, and the light
of His providence pass on, and cast these objects of our earthly
affection into the shade, then they must be at once in the shade to
_us_,--they must, for the time, disappear from our hearts. "He that
loveth father or mother more than Me, is not worthy of Me." So He
says; and at such times, though still loving them, we shall seem to
hate them; for we shall put aside the thought of them, and act as if
they did not exist. And in this sense an ancient and harsh proverb is
true: we must always so love our friends as feeling that one day or
other we may perchance be called upon to hate them,--that is, forget
them in the pursuit of higher duties.

Here, again, then, is an instance of self-denial in lawful things; and
if a person says it is painful thus to feel, and that it checks the
spontaneous and continual flow of love towards our friends to have this
memento sounding in our ears, we must boldly acknowledge that it is
painful. It is a sad thought, not that we can ever be called upon
actually to put away the love of them, but to have to act as if we did
not love them,--as Abraham when called on to slay his son. And this
thought of the uncertainty of the future, doubtless, does tinge all our
brightest affections (as far as this world is concerned) with a grave
and melancholy hue. We need not shrink from this confession,
remembering that this life is not our rest or happiness;--"_that_
remaineth" to come. This sober chastised feeling is the very temper of
David, when he speaks of having composed and quieted hi