Conscience is very

save you from that great error. strong and tender in a child, and makes even small sins very bitter. bitter. Is it not true that the most of your miseries have come from your sins? I do not mean such sorrows as come to the liar and the thief when he is found out and soundly punished, but I mean those strange, inner miseries you have when you do wrong, those stings of accusing conscience which are known to yourself only. Have you not already suffered many things on account of sin? That boy, that girl, is happy who has not laid up a stock of self-reproaches on account of the sins of youth. As you read books, you will find many facts that suggest to you very solemn views of sin. I know there are many wicked and frivolous books that laugh at fashionable sins, and even praise them; but many poets, and even many novelists, by fearful examples teach you the danger of scorning any of God's laws. Your knowledge of life, as you grow older, will print the same lessons deeply on your heart. But under Christ's cross you will learn more than you can learn in all other places concerning the greatness of sin. The cross is meant to reveal to us—

III. The Greatness of Salvation.

For it shows us that nothing has been wanting on Christ's part. He did not spare Himself, but freely gave Himself for us. What more could He have done? He knew all that was needed for our salvation, and He declared, "It is finished." By that it He meant His work for us.

No one can suggest anything that could have made Christ's salvation greater than it really is. We could not have had a greater Saviour; we could not have had greater wisdom, love, and power. All here is great with infinite greatness, and the preacher is apt to wrong this theme by any words that he can use.

I wish to show you how you should use this truth. You should say to yourself, "I am very weak and sinful. I am all wrong, and I need God to put me right and keep me right. I know little about my sin, and about what is needed for my salvation; but I am quite sure that I am a great sinner, and that Christ is a great Saviour.

His cross tells me the
Christ bids me come

greatness of His salvation. to Him, and offers to save me. I come as I am, and take His simple word. I cannot understand the dark things around my sin and His cross; but I know that He will not cast me out, and that is enough for me. Jesus, Thou Son of God, have mercy on me. Oh, Thou Saviour of sinners, I now wholly give myself to Thee; and by Thy grace I will serve Thee while life lasts."

When you stand under the cross you should have no fears about Christ's welcome. If He were not willing to save you, why did He hang on that tree? When He has done so much, and with so much pain, will He not save you, when your salvation can give Him nothing but joy? The cross should shame us out of all our withering suspicions of Him.

The cross is God's best and last means of melting

hard hearts and winning sinful men. If it fails, we cannot hope that any other weapons will succeed. This subject also instructs us in—

IV. The Service of Christ.

1. It shows us the reasonableness of it. If He did all this for us, we surely will wish to make some return to Him. "We love Him," "We love Him," says the beloved disciple, "because He first loved us." This is the explanation of all true Christian service. Grateful love, kindled by Christ's redeeming love, grows mighty in the Christian heart, and conquers the love of sin and self, and flows forth in all the deeds of holy living. He must be a monster, worse than a wild beast, who is incapable of gratitude. You know the beautiful story of the lion from whose swollen paw Androcles drew forth the festering thorn. That same lion-whetted with hunger-was afterwards sent into the circus to devour that same Androcles. The noble beast recognised his former forest friend, and licked his hand in gratitude. It is gratitude that has made all the great Christians. Without it religious service is no better than a millhorse round. Nothing can be more reasonable than this grateful love; and all your reasons for it are before your mind when you survey the cross.

2. The cross also shows us the spirit of true service; for every Christian wishes to be as a little Christ. Christ consented to serve even on the cross. We should make His consent the model of ours. we should have the spirit of the cross in renouncing

And

sin and self, the spirit of self-sacrificing love. In many passages we are taught that we are to die with Christ on the cross, and like Him. By our union to Him we are to have that death to sin, and self-crucifixion, without which we can never become real Christians. These great thoughts should underlie all our small duties. I have heard of an old Scottish chief, who was asked to join the party of those who had slain his king, and who replied, "I can never be on your side; a river of blood flows between you and me; you have slain my king." If the Christian entered thoroughly into the meaning of Christ's cross, he would feel that a river of sacred blood flows between him and the sin that slew his Lord.

3. Christ on the cross teaches us how to die. His last words were, "Father, into Thy hands I commend my spirit." He then bowed His head, and gave up the ghost. He breathed the

spirit of a childlike Some young people The bare mention

submission to the will of God. have a perfect horror of death. of it spoils all their joys. The cross should drive away this unhappy fear. He who knows Christ should rise above the fear of death. Strive to live like Christ, and you may put away your wondering thoughts about your own death. If every day you commend your spirit into your Father's hands, as you should, you will have no untried thing to do when the signal is given for your quitting life. They die best who live best, and they live best who live most in the faith and spirit of the cross of Christ.

CHAPTER XVIII.

THE THIEF ON THE CROSS.

LUKE Xxiii. 39-43.

SOME are pained to hear this man called a thief. They maintain that he must have been a noble patriot who had rebelled against the Romans. Had he succeeded he might have had a place, they think, among the world's heroes, alongside of Judas Macabæus, William Tell, William Wallace, or Garibaldi. They cannot believe that an ordinary criminal could have shown such greatness of mind. It is very wonderful that he understood Christ better, so far as we know, than any man living then did. I say man, for probably the faithful women around the cross had a true insight into Christ's character. When His own disciples misunderstood and forsook Him, when the people were mocking, this man was the one discoverer of Christ. In the sufferer nailed to the cross he saw the Messias, and honoured Him as the hearer of prayer, the Saviour of the chief of sinners, and the opener of the gates of paradise: he hoped that Christ would remember him in heaven, while all he knew on earth would be glad to forget him; he expected Christ to live as king in heaven, and himself to live with Him. Yet we