noble, I
call right; another sort of thing, of a contrary tendency, I call wrong.
And the faculty, itself, I call a sense of right and wrong.

Suppose an individual walking along a road, wondering how he is going to
raise fifty dollars which he needs very badly, comes upon an automobile
standing in a lonely spot; and then sees a lady who has been picking
wild-flowers, get into the automobile and after fussing with her
flowers, her wrap, her hand-bag and handkerchief, let drop some small
object to the ground, before driving away. He strolls up to the spot and
picks up the object, which proves to be a purse containing eighty
dollars in bank-notes. There is no one in sight, and after a moment's
hesitation, obeying an impulse of self-interest, he pockets the money,
throws the purse into the bushes and turns his steps another way.

As far as his self-interest and his intellect are concerned, they agree
in telling him he is very lucky. He has obtained the money which he
wanted, he has broken no law, and there is not the slightest risk or
danger of any sort involved in his conduct. He can pay his debt and have
money to spare, with every reason to feel happy over his good fortune.

But if the spiritual side of his nature is at all developed, he is apt
to be tormented by a vague, persistent feeling of another kind. It tells
him he has done something unworthy of his better self. In every day
language, we say he is troubled by his conscience.

It not infrequently happens that individuals who have done wrong are so
affected by this feeling that they make restitution and confession when
they are safely beyond the reach of detection.

Neither the intellect nor self-interest plays any part in such conduct,
which is contrary to the advice of both. It is inspired uniquely by this
soul-feeling, called conscience.

Slightly different from this, but belonging to the same family, is the
sentiment of honor.

A number of years ago, a young man whom I knew, happened to go to a
notorious gambling house in New York, with a couple of companions. One
of these young men was a member of a wealthy family and had been
frequently to this place, where he was always most welcome. My friend
held a clerical position in a financial institution, was making his own
living, and at the time had about fifteen hundred dollars in the bank,
which represented his entire worldly assets. It was late at night, the
young men had been to a party and were in rather