The circumstances of the case did not admit of that full exhibition of the practical fruits of conversion which adorn the life and conversation of every true believer; for he was converted at the eleventh hour, and was no sooner converted than he died, and entered into glory. We have, however, even in this brief narrative, some precious indications of the great moral change which had been wrought on his mind and heart. He evinced a true sense of sin, a thorough conviction of its demerit, a just apprehension of the punishment that was due to it; an awful fear of God, a lively trust and confidence in the Saviour, a serious thoughtfulness in regard to the future, a disposition to pray, and a new-born but honest zeal for righteousness and truth, which prompted him to rebuke his fellow-sufferer in these remarkable words: "Dost thou not fear God, seeing that thou art in the same condemnation; and we indeed justly, for we receive the due reward of our deeds;" and these new principles and feelings would no doubt have evinced their power, by altering all his habits, and his whole course of life, had life been prolonged. It is true, that in many cases, serious thoughts of God, and judgment, and eternity, are often awakened in the souls of unconverted men, when they have the near prospect of death, and that, in many cases, when health is restored and life prolonged, they "vanish like the morning cloud, and the early dew." So that, in the case of most late conversions, there is a painful feeling of doubt as to the genuineness and stability of those good resolutions which are awakened in the mere prospect of death, such as must prevent any very certain deliverance on the actual state and eternal prospects of such as are not spared to verify their profession by a consistent Christian life. But in the instance before us there is no room to doubt; we have the infallible testimony of Christ himself sealing this man's conversion, and assuring him of eternal glory. The grand result of the change that was wrought upon him on the cross, is declared in these words, "Verily, I say unto thee, this day shalt thou be with me in Paradise." No sooner was the prayer uttered, than the promise was given; and that promise was to be immediately fulfilled. The Lord gives more than was asked: the malefactor's request was, "Lord, remember me!" but the answer far exceeded the demand; it spake to him of Paradise, and of Christ's presence there, and of his admission that very day. What a sudden transition-what a glorious change! A malefactor, condemned for his crimes to die-led to Calvary, that he might be nailed to a cross-converted there as he hung between life and death, on the brink of eternity-and on the self-same day born again, justified, adopted, saved; translated from earth to heaven-from Calvary to Paradise-from a cross of shame to a throne of glory!

On a review of the interesting narrative to which our attention has been directed, we may derive from it many instructive lessons, which are applicable to all sinners at the present day.

1. It exhibits a remarkable proof of the Saviour's power. That this

malefactor was a great sinner, only serves to show that he by whom he was delivered was a great Saviour; that he had reached the extreme point of guilt, and the very end of life, only serves to make it clear that "Christ is able to save unto the uttermost." The power of Christ to subdue the most hardened sinner, and his power to cancel the most aggravated guilt, and his power to open the gate of heaven, and secure our admission there-all this is evinced with undeniable certainty by the fact, that even in the lowest depths of his humiliation, before his work was finished, or his reward secured, he snatched this brand from the burning, and rescued this captive from the power of Satan, and carried him as a trophy from the cross, when he entered within the vail. And O! if such was Christ's power then, who should now despair, who knows that Jesus, then on the cross, is now upon the throne, exalted as a Prince and Saviour, to give repentance and remission of sins.

2. It exhibits a precious proof of the perfect freedom of his grace. Loaded with crime, and standing on the very verge of an eternal world, what could have been of any avail to this poor sinner but grace, and grace that was perfectly free. Righteousness he had none; good works he had none. He was self-convicted and self-condemned, and he had nothing before him but the certain fearful looking-for of judgment, unless God had grace, and that grace were free. But when he heard the Saviour pray for his murderers-when he heard him pray for their forgiveness-the idea of free grace to pardon sin seems to have entered into his inmost soul, and he ventured to ask that the Lord would remember him; and immediately-such was the grace of Christ-he required no previous qualifications, demanded no acquired merit, imposed no conditions, made no stipulations of any kind; but gave him at once an answer in peace, and a full and irreversible promise of admission into glory; and this, too, while he was in such agony as might have been expected to concentrate all his care upon himself; yet, even then, he had room in his heart for the sorrows of this poor sinner.

3. It has been remarked, that in the Bible, this is a solitary example of a man being converted at the hour of death-there being one such instance, that none may despair, and only one, that none may presume. Presumption and despair are the two great rocks on which we are ever in danger of making shipwreck; and this narrative may well serve to guard us against both; against despair: for why should any man despair, who reads of the thief who was converted on the cross; and against presumption: for who dare presume when he reads that there was another thief on another cross, who died unconverted there? The hoariest sinner who lives may be encouraged by the one, but the boldest may be deterred by the other. "The one was taken and the other left."

4. We learn from this narrative how little of God's truth may serve for conversion, if it be suitably improved by the hearer, and savingly

applied by the Spirit. The penitent on the cross was saved by means of mere fragments of truth, and these presented to him in the blasphemies of Christ's accusers and the inscription on his cross. This is a delightful thought, when it is viewed in connection with the case of the poor and ignorant, and of others who live under a dark or defective dispensation of truth; but it is unutterably solemn when viewed in connection with our own case, for how shall we escape if we die unconverted, after the light we have received, the many sermons we have heard, the much truth we have slighted and despised!

5. We learn, that on the instant of his conversion, a sinner acquires all the rights and privileges of a child of God, and that, if he die immediately thereafter, he will immediately pass into glory. No sooner was this malefactor converted, than he was assured by the Lord himself, that on the self-same day he should be with him in Paradise. Had he lived on earth, he would have been capable of growth and increase in grace; but the new creature, although but as a new-born babe, is entire in all its members, and capable of entering into the kingdom, however short its earthly span.

DISCOURSE L.

ROBERT S. CANDLISH, D.D.

DR. CANDLISH was born about the beginning of the present century, of humble and honest parentage, and, having attended to the usual classical and theological curriculum, was licensed as a probationer, and located, about the year 1832, in a small town in the west of Scotland. Preaching occasionally in Glasgow, his superior gifts attracted attention, and he was soon called to that city, where, ever since, he has held a prominent position, and identified his name with all the great church movements of the age. At the period of the disruption in 1843, his people erected a temporary place of worship, and, some ten years ago, a splendid churchedifice was built, at an expense of nearly £10,000. His people (the St. George's Free Church) are numerous and wealthy, and, besides home support, do much for benevolent purposes abroad.

Dr. Candlish is of middle height and slightly formed, and speaks with a broad Scotch dialect. Earnestness is a striking characteristic in his preaching, his energy resembling the impetuosity and fire of Chalmers. His gesticulations are violent and ungraceful. His mind is rather imaginative than profound, and his writings discover a frequent looseness of thought and style, which appear to be the result of haste in their preparation. They are, however, quite popular; and his chief works-an 'Exposition of Genesis," "Scripture Characters and Miscellanies," "The Christian Sacrifice," "Past Memories and Present Duties"-have passed through several editions, and extended widely his influence.

The following, which is the first of a series of discourses on Scripture Characters, has had the reputation of being the finest specimen of polished eloquence which this distinguished divine has ever put to press. In the title, we substitute the word "doom" for "characteristic."

THE UNIVERSAL DOOM.

"And Joseph died, and all his brethren, and all that generation."-EXODUS, i. 6.

THE successions of generations among the children of men, has been, from Homer downward, likened to that of the leaves among the trees of the forest. The foliage of one summer, withering gradually away and strewing the earth with wrecks, has its place supplied by the exuberance of the following spring. Of the countless myriads of gay blossoms and

green leaves, that but a few months ago were glancing in the beams of the joyous sun, not one remains; but a new race, all full of brightness and promise as before, covers the naked branches, and the woods again. burst forth in beauty and song, as if decay had never passed over any of their leafy boughs. So of men: "one generation passeth away, and another generation cometh, but the earth abideth forever" (Eccl., i. 4). The same to the new generation that cometh—the same scene of weary labor, endless variety, alternate hope and disappointment, as if no warning of change had ever been given, as if the knell of death had never rung over the generation that is passing away.

But there is one point in which the analogy does not hold: there is one difference between the race of leaves and the race of men. Between

the leaves of successive summers an interval of desolation intervenes, and the "bare and wintry woods" emphatically mark the passage from one season to another. But there is no such pause in the succession of the generations of men. Insensibly they melt and shade into one another. An old man dies, and a child is born; daily and hourly there is a death and a birth; and imperceptibly, by slow degrees, the actors in life's busy scene are changed. Hence the full force of this thought, "one generation passeth away, and another generation cometh," is not ordinarily felt.

Let us conceive, however, of such a blank in the succession of generations as winter makes in the succession of leaves. Let us take our stand on some middle ground in the stream of history, where there is, as it were, a break or a void between one series of events and another, where the whole tide of life, in the preceding narrative, is engulfed and swallowed up, and the new stream has not begun to flow. Such a position we have in some of the strides which sacred history makes over many intervening years, from the crisis or catastrophe of one of the world's dramas to the opening of another, as, for instance, in the transition from the going down of Israel into Egypt, in the days of Joseph, to their coming out again, in the time of Moses. Here is a dreary vacancy, as of a leafless winter, coming in between the scene in which Joseph and his cotemporaries bore so conspicuous a part, and another scene in which not one of the former actors remained to bear a share; but there arose up a new king over Egypt, which knew not Joseph." And the historian seems to be aware of the solemnity of this pause, when, dismissing the whole subject of his previous narrative, he records the end of all in the brief, but significant words, "And Joseph died, and all his brethren, and all that generation."

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The first view of this verse that occurs to us is its striking significancy and force, as a commentary on the history of which it so abruptly and emphatically announces the close. The previous narrative presents to us a busy scene-an animated picture; and here, as if by one single stroke, all is reduced to a blank. But now we saw a crowded