122 THE VINE. 



the blossom of hope that maketh not ashamed. 

 What could we do without that blessed assurance 

 that it is the Father's good pleasure to give the king 

 dom to all his little flock 1 The lamb, so newly 

 dropt that it cannot yet find a firm footing, but tot- 

 ters and sinks before the lightest breeze — the lamb 

 is, notwithstanding, of the flock. Once born of 

 God the soul never dies; once admitted into his 

 family, it is no more cast out. Weak faith is ever 

 staggering at the promise, and asking for evidences 

 which the nature of the case puts beyond our reach : 

 it cannot trace this simple analogy between things 

 natural and things spiritual. It is content, as 

 regards the veterans of the fold: but the little 

 new-born lambs, how could they tread the difficult 

 path to heaven ? Why, they could not tread it at 

 all — and what then ? The Shepherd gathered 

 them in his arms, and carried them in his bosom, 

 and they reached it no less surely, safely, speedi 

 ly, than the sturdy ancients who travelled onward 

 in matured strength. Verily, our unbelief strips 

 God of half his glory, to put it on the creature. 



It is a hard saying for human pride to hear, that 

 the babe which gives one gasp and dies, enters 

 heaven under as exceeding and eternal a weight of 

 glory, as the matured, the tempted, the victorious 

 Christian. But if it be of grace, and not of works, 

 such is the undeniable inference. We are con 

 strained to believe ; but how hard to apply it ' 



