The solution of this inquiry is not difficult. Is Jesus Christ holy? All Christendom--sceptics and believers--answers in the affirmative. Now the love of a holy being will, as a necessary result, counteract unholiness in the heart. Holiness is the antagonistic principle of sin. The soul cannot love a holy being, and at the same time cherish those principles and exercises which it is conscious are offensive to the soul of the beloved object. From the nature of the case, love to holiness will produce opposition to sin. Love is the fulfilling of the law, and sin is the transgression of the law; so that, while the soul is entirely actuated in all its exercises by pure love to Christ, those exercises of the heart cannot be sinful. When the heart is attached to any being, especially when that being is lovely and pure in his character, it becomes averse to everything which, from its evil nature, causes suffering to the object of its affections. There are few things which will cause one to feel so sensibly the evil of sin as to see that his sins are causing anguish to one that he loves. It is said of Zeleucus, a king of the ancient Locri, that he enacted a law, the penalty of which was that the offender should lose both his eyes. One of his sons became a transgressor of that law. The father had his attachment to his son, and regard to the law he himself had promulgated as righteous in its requirements and in its penalty. The lawgiver, it is said, ordered his son into his presence, and required that one of his eyes should be taken out, and then, in order to show mercy to his son, and at the same time maintain the penalty of the law, he sacrificed one of his own eyes as a ransom for the remaining eye of his child. Now we do not refer to this case as a perfect analogy, but to show the moral effect of such an exhibition of justice and self-sacrificing mercy. As man is constituted, it is perfectly certain that this transaction would produce two effects; one upon the subjects of the king, which would be to impress upon every heart that the law was sacred, and that the lawgiver thus regarded it. This impression would be made much more strongly than it would have been if the king had ordered that his son should lose both his eyes; because it manifested, in the strongest manner possible, his love for his son, and his sacred regard for his law. If he had allowed his son to escape, it would have exhibited to his subjects less love for his law; and if he had executed the whole penalty of the law upon the son, instead of bearing a portion of it himself, he would have manifested less love for his son. The king was the lawgiver; he therefore had the power to pardon his son, without inflicting the penalty upon him, and without enduring any sacrifice himself. Every mind, therefore, would feel that it was a voluntary act on the part of the king; and such an exhibition of justice and mercy, maintaining the law and saving his