"Yes, it has an important bearing on man, in relieving him from the galling pressure of conscious guilt, and giving him peace of soul, combined with a hope of final salvation."

"It is this aspect of the atonement," said the stranger, "which constitutes the germ of my objection. The atonement, if a reality, is a fact of ancient date; and, like all other historical facts, it comes transmitted to us on the evidence of testimony; and it must, I suppose, be believed before it can exert any influence or power on the mind of man."

"Most certainly."

"This is the problem I want solved; is this supposed moral power emitted directly FROM the atonement on the human spirit, when it is in a quiescent state? if so, there can be no necessity for the exercise of belief; or does the human spirit extract it by the mysterious action of its own faith? if so, as the virtue itself is both intangible and imperceptible, and consequently inconceivable, how can faith, whose object of belief must be something definite, perform the supposed action?"

"Your question is a very subtle one, but it is not a very perplexing one, because it relates to a fact of a peculiar order, all of which are self-evident, while the nature of their influence or power, and the modus of its operation—i.e., the operation of the influence of the facts of the peculiar order—are shrouded in a veil of impenetrable mystery."

"Excuse me; but I don't take the drift of your meaning."

"You object to the atonement, because you cannot conceive how it can exert any effective influence over the soul of a man oppressed by a sense of conscious guilt."

"Exactly so."

"Well, I am now going to prove that there is no logical force in your objection, and I will do this by one analogical fact, which will explain, and, I think, confirm the correctness of my meaning. Take, then, human friendship. Is the moral power of human friendship a fiction or a reality? Take the look of friendship; is there no moral power in the movement and soft beaming of the eye, especially in the falling tear? Take the countenance of friendship; is there no moral power in the bland and bewitching smile? Take the bosom of friendship; is there no moral power in the suppressed groan or noiseless sigh? Take the hand of friendship; is there no moral power in the hearty shake or gentle squeeze? Take the tongue of friendship; is there no moral power in its expressions of sympathy, or its promises of fidelity? But, Sir, what is this mystic power, which is known to act with such efficacy on the troubled and downcast spirit in the season of its perplexities and sorrows? Can you tell me what it is, or how it acts? It is a mighty something, which, like an invisible spirit of superhuman benignity, moves without a shape, speaks without a voice, passes through all resistances of doubt and misgivings without an effort, laying the throbbing heart of the anxious mourner at rest on its own impalpable bosom, where it enjoys the solace and the calm of sweet repose. Thus we have, in the common occurrences of every-day life, a philosophical defence of the moral efficacy of the power which the Scriptures ascribe to the atonement, even though we cannot define its exact nature, or explain the modus of its actual operation. It is then, like the power of human friendship, a fact which evidence attests and which uniform experience confirms."