But how does this work, accomplished _out_ of man, act _in_ man?... Such is the great question the Reformer sets himself. Divine faith which lays hold of the righteousness of Christ _upon the cross_ gives birth at the same moment to the holiness of Christ _in the heart_. 'Man has no sooner embraced the atonement with a faith full of confidence,' he says, 'than he experiences an unalterable peace in his conscience. He possesses a spirit of adoption, which makes him call God _my Father!_ and which procures him a sweet and joyful communion with the heavenly Father. Immediately the least drop of faith is put into our souls we begin to contemplate the face of God, kind and favourable to us. True, we see it from afar, but it is with an undoubting eye, and we know that there is no deception.' A new question is here started. The young doctor is asked: Is man saved by charity or without it? He makes answer: 'There is no other faith which justifies save that which is united with charity; but it is not from charity that it derives the power to justify. Faith justifies only because it puts us in communication with the righteousness of Christ. Whosoever confounds the two righteousnesses (that of man and that of God) hinders poor souls from reposing on the sole and pure mercy of God, plaits a crown of thorns for Jesus Christ, and turns his sacrifice to ridicule.' Here Calvin puts forward the grand idea which characterises the Reformation effected by his teaching; namely, _that it is only the new man which we should value_. After insisting as much as any doctor on the work that Christ does _without us_, he insists more than any on the work Christ must do _within us_. 'I exalt to the highest degree,' he says, 'the conjunction that we have with our Chief,—the dwelling he makes in our hearts by faith,—the sacred union by which we enjoy him. It is necessary that we should perceive in our lives a melody and harmony between the righteousness of God and the obedience of our souls.' But Calvin observed that many humble, timid christians were distressed because they experienced only a weak faith. These he consoles, and the images he employs are picturesque: 'If any one, shut up in a deep dungeon,' he says, 'received the light of the sun obliquely and partially, through a high and narrow window, he would not certainly have a sight of the full sun, yet he would not fail to receive a certain quantity of light and to enjoy its use. In the same way, though we are shut up in the prison of this earthly body, where much obscurity surrounds us on every side, if we have _the least spark_ of God's light, we are sufficiently illuminated and may have a firm assurance.'