around us with their olissful harmony, and seek our hearts, in order to convey to them something of heaven. O attend well to these words! They are the most precious boon which Christ has thrown into our lap from his cross.

Let every syllable of them be well weighed by us. "Verily," says our Lord at the commencement, and this is the confirmation of his words. How important is this assertion, uttered by such a mouth, at such a time, when on the threshold of eternity! How suited to dispel all our doubts. Unspeakably elevating is the consciousness of the fullness of confidence and certainty manifested in our Lord's speeeh to the dying criminal. The fact is firm as a rock, that he is the Way, the Truth, and the Life—immutably firm; that he bears the keys of hell and of death; that he will conduct the penitent sinner through the night of death into eternal life, and that life a blissful one in paradise; and how greatly does this his own assurance tend to confirm and animate our faith in him!

That which so highly ravishes us in his words, next to his confidence, is the repetition of the poor criminal's request in a superior degree. To his appellation of "Lord!" the thorncrowned Jesus replies with the words, “I say unto thee." And what else does this imply, but "I am so; thou art not mistaken in me. Thou canst not think too highly of me." Upon the petition, "Remember me," follows the Lord's words, Thou shalt be with me"-that is, "I shall not need first to think of thee;" for we think not of those who are present, but of those who are absent. The period indicated by the word "when," the Lord responds to by the assertion, "this day"-not at some distant period, but this day shall be the happy day of thy deliverance and redemption. To the criminal's appeal, "when thou comest in thy kingdom, or appearest in thy regal glory," the Lord replies: "I am a king already. I will take thee with me into paradise. With this bleeding hand will I open to thee the gates of the world of blessedness."

The words addressed by the illustrious Sufferer to the malefactor, produce, lastly, such a beneficial effect upon us, because they bear in them an infallible testimony to the perfection and all-sufficiency of the redemption accomplished by him for us.

For on what ground is it that Jesus so confidently promises instead of the curse, salvation to a sinner, on whom, according to the divine statutes, the curse of the law ought to be inflicted? Not upon the ground of a voluntary divine amnesty, which would never coincide with the nature of a perfect God. Not on that of a presupposed weak-minded paternal love of God, before whose eyes the difference between the just and the unjust at length vanished, and which would be compelled to erect its throne upon the ruins of holiness, justice, and truth; he promises paradise solely on the ground of his ever-valid work of mediation and atonement.

The three crosses on Calvary present to us a very important subject for consideration. They afford us an image of the world. Christ in its midst; but to the one he is set for the rising, and for the falling of the other—a savor of life unto life to the one, and of death unto death to the other. The tender-mercy of Jesus there celebrates its triumph, and appears in the radiance of glorification. You behold a sinner on his right hand and another on his left; but he is so little ashamed of their society that on the contrary, he then feels in his element and at home, because he can there exhibit his love to man-there heal and

save.

You see in the three crosses, further, an actual exposition of the Saviour's words, "I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life." For who is it that serves the malefactor on his right, in opposition to his fellow-sufferer on the left, as a bridge on which he may pass from a state of curse to that of grace? Who is it that enlightens him, and in some degree the companion of his fate, not less by his mere appearance, than by that marvelous light, whose rays penetrate into his inmost soul, and expel all the phantoms of delusion from him? And lastly, who is it that takes from his bosom the consciousness of a state of death, and replaces it with the most blissful and vital hope?—yea, that imparts to his soul, even on this side eternity, a new life of peace, supernatural joy, divine consciousness of adoption, and the most heartfelt longing after heaven? Is it not the thorn-crowned Sufferer there who is the author of it all?

Finally, the scene on Calvary affords us a representation of

the boundless power and wonderful efficacy of the merits of our great High Priest. For even as the word "to-day," in our Lord's announcement, represents all future purging and purifying fires as forever extinguished in his blood, as regards his believing people-so the expression, "This day shalt thou be with me in paradise"-whether by the word be understood heaven itself, or only an outer court of heaven, affords us a stupendous proof that Christ's vicarious satisfaction perfectly suffices for the sinner's justification and beatification. Certainly, we must duly observe that the malefactor was in a state of true and thorough repentance, and that after breaking with sin by penitential grief, and opening his heart to Jesus by a living faith, he had received into himself all the germs of a subsequent sanctification-germs which immediately began to unfold themselves in the compassionate love in which he took to heart the critical state of his companion in crime. But it was not for the sake of these germs of future virtues, which naturally could offer no recompense for a perfect obedience of the law, that the malefactor was justified before the divine tribunal; but he received the divine absolution in the righteousness of his Surety imputed to him, which does not less commend incipient saints to the eyes of the Judge of the living and the dead, than those already perfected.

Anticipate, my friends, the next few moments, and what do you see occur above the summit of Calvary? The three who were crucified bow their heads, and the great separation is accomplished, Alas! he on Jesus's left descends also to the left; and the powers of darkness will have joyfully welcomed him who, even in death, could insult the Lord of Glory, as one of their most faithful and consistent instruments. The criminal to the right, on the contrary, soars heavenward, at the side of the Prince of Peace, and, received into his triumphal chariot, passes, amid the acclamations of angels, through the gates of paradise, no longer guarded by the cherub's flaming sword. He was the first herald who, by his appearing there, brought the glorified spirits the intelligence that Christ had won the great battle of our deliverance. As the first-fruits of the sufferings of the Divine Surety, as well as of the blissful human harvest which

should spring up from the wondrous seed of his blood, he may still be especially embraced by the worshipers of the Lamb, in the realms above, as a particularly dear citizen of the heavenly kingdom. To us he remains both an incomparable monument of the all-sufficiency of the blood of Christ, and a lofty candlestick, on which the free grace of God beams as a flame, and an extremely significant beacon, yea, a light-house established by God for us on our passage through life. O, be assured, my readers, that the spiritual footsteps of the dying malefactor, with the words, "Remember me!" on his lips, point out to us to this day, the only path that leads to Zion. Let us, therefore, follow him, and make his "Remember me!" our own, and then say under the cross of the bleeding Friend of Sinners, as heartily in faith, as poor in spirit, in the sense of the malefactor,

"When to the cross I turn my eyes,

And rest on Calvary,

O Lamb of God, my sacrifice!

I must remember thee.

"And when these failing lips grow dumb,
And mind and memory flee,

When thou shalt in thy kingdom come,
Jesus, remember me!"

XLVI.

THE LEGACY OF LOVE.

OUR present meditation brings us again to the cross on Calvary. And where, my readers, do we linger more willingly than beneath its shade? Every day the desires of our hearts resort thither for the supply of our soul's necessities. For since we have daily to lament over our negligences and sins, we daily require fresh balm for our wounded consciences. What would become of us had we not Calvary to flee to? O, thou art the

Ararat to which I daily escape from the waves of trouble; the Zoar to which I flee from the flames of Sodom; my Nebo's top, from whence I survey the promised land; and my Tabor, where I rejoice and say, "It is good to be here-here will we erect our habitations."

A pleasing scene presents itself to our view beneath the cross. He who was "fairer than the children of men" does not die unlamented. In the midst of rage and fury, love stands near him in his dying moments, and lifts up to him its tearful and affectionate eye. Look at the little mournful group yonder, and behold a lovely little company in the midst of the bands of Belial-a hidden rosebud under wild and tangled bramblebushes, a splendid wreath of lilies around the deathbed of the Redeemer.

It is thus that the cross is surrounded even to this day. Though the infuriated hosts of hell rage around it, yet it is still encircled by the most estimable of the earth. For if we seek for sacred grief, for love which has emanated from heaven, for patience, which never tires, and gratitude, which gives up every thing-where do these beautiful and heavenly flowers flourish except beneath the cross? We know the faithful company there, who form a living commentary on the words of the Song of songs, "Love is strong as death, aud immovable as the grave; the coals thereof are coals of fire, which hath a most vehement flame. Many waters can not quench love, neither can the floods drown it." What do they care about hazarding their lives! Their life was the man on the cross. What do they trouble themselves about the scorn and contempt of the word! They desire nothing else and nothing better from a world which crowned their King with thorns. Had they been nailed to the cross with him, they would have pushed away the earth from under them as a rotten and worthless antly cast their anchor in the clouds. have for them, after his blessed steps thorny and thirsty soil?

plank, and have triumpnWhat charms could earth ceased to tread upon its

Look at the courageous group a little more closely. Of whom does it consist? Strange enough, with one exception, all of them are females. The strong are fled the weak maintain