THE

LAMBS ALL SAFE;

OR,

THE SALVATION OF CHILDREN.

BY THE

REV. ALEXANDER BALLOCH GROSART,

KINROSS,

AUTHOR OF THE 'PRINCE OF LIGHT AND THE PRINCE
OF DARKNESS IN CONFLICT,' ETC., ETC.

THIRD EDITION, WITH ADDITIONS AND APPENDIX.

'As on a sunny bank, a tender lamb

Lurks in safe shelter from the winds of March,
Screened by its parent, so that little mound
Lies guarded by its neighbour; the small heap
Speaks for itself: an infant there doth rest;
The sheltering hillock is the mother's grave.'

Wordsworth.

EDINBURGH: W. OLIPHANT AND CO.
LONDON: HAMILTON, ADAMS, AND CO.

MDCCCLXV.

The Etather

Recd. April 24, 187!

'A LITTLE CHILD.'

'Familiar Spirit, that so graciously
Dost take whatever fortune may befall,
Trusting thy fragile form to the arms of all,
And never counting it indignity

To be caressed upon the humblest knee;
Thou, having got no words, aloud dost call
Upon our hearts; the fever and the gall
Of our dark bosoms are reproved in thee.
From selfish fears and lawless wishes free,
Thou hast no painful feeling of thy weakness;
From shafts malign and pride's base agony
Protected by the pillows of thy meekness;
Thou hast thy little loves which do not grieve thee,
Unquiet make thee, or unhappy leave thee.'

AUBREY DE VERE: The Infant Bridal,
and other Poems.'

MURRAY AND GIBB, PRINTERS, EDINBURGH.

BABY'S SHOES.

O those little, those little blue shoes!
Those shoes that no little feet use!

O the price were high that those shoes would buy, Those little blue unused shoes!

For they hold the small shape of feet,

That no more their mother's eyes meet,

That by God's good will, years since grew still, And ceased from their totter so sweet!

And O, since that baby slept,

So hushed! how the mother has kept.

With a tearful pleasure, that little dear treasure, And o'er them thought and wept!

For they mind her for evermore

Of a patter along the floor,

And blue eyes she sees look up from her knees, With the look that in life they wore.

As they lie before her there,

There babbles from chair to chair,

A little sweet face, that's a gleam in the place,

With its little gold curls of hair.

Then O wonder not that her heart

From all else would rather part,

Than those tiny blue shoes, that no little feet use, And whose sight makes such fond tears start.

WILLIAM C. BENNET. *

*Poems. Collected Edition. 1 vol. 12mo (Routledge, 1862). Pp. 6, 7.

PREFATORY NOTE.

THE first edition of my little book went off so swiftly, that there was no time to read it over for a second; but for this, the third, I have done so carefully.

I have found nothing to withdraw or modify; but various points of the argument are strengthened, and a few things added in the text, and an Appendix of Notes. I invite special attention to some of the latter, e.g., Notes b, d, f, g, h, and to the revised analytical 'Contents,' which presents the course of the inquiry at a glance: the details of illustration are now separated therein from the main positions maintained, which are printed in a thick type. In its present form, may 'The Lambs' be increasingly used as God's own Hand to wipe away tears from the eyes of Mourners. I feel deeply thankful for the reception. already accorded, because in my innermost soul I believe the consolation rendered to be scriptural.. The following was prefixed to former editions: