_Its Value not thus destroyed._--But of what use, it will be said, is a moral faculty, on which, after all, we cannot rely? Of what use, we reply, is _any_ mental faculty, that is not absolutely and universally correct? Of what use is a memory or a judgment, that sometimes errs? We do not wholly distrust these faculties, or cast them aside as worthless. A time-keeper may be of great value, though not absolutely perfect. Its authorship and original construction may be a strong presumption in favor of its general correctness; nevertheless its hands may have been accidentally set to the wrong hour of the day. _Actual Occurrence of such Cases._--This is a spectacle that not unfrequently presents itself in the moral world--a man with his conscience pointing to the wrong hour; a strictly conscientious man, fully and firmly persuaded that he is right, yet by no means agreeing with the general convictions of mankind; an hour or two before, or, it may be, as much behind the age. Such men are the hardest of all mortals to be set right, for the simple reason, that they are conscientious. "Here is my watch; it points to such an hour; and my watch is from the very best maker. I cannot be mistaken." And yet he is mistaken, and egregiously so. The truth is, conscience is no more infallible than any other mental faculty. It is simply, as we have seen, a power of perceiving and judging, and its operations, like all other perceptions and judgments, are liable to error. _Diversity of Moral Judgment._--And this which we have just said, goes far to account for the great diversity that has long been known to exist in the moral judgments and opinions of men. It has often been urged, and with great force, against the supposed existence of a moral faculty in man, as a part of his original nature, that men think and act so differently with respect to these matters. Nature, it is said, ought to act uniformly; thus eyes and ears do not give essentially conflicting testimony, at different times, and in different countries, with respect to the same objects. Certain colors are universally pleasing, and certain sounds disagreeable. But not so, it is said, with respect to the moral judgments of men. What one approves, another condemns. If these distinctions are universal, absolute, essential; and if the power of perceiving them is inherent in our nature, men ought to agree in their perception of them. Yet you will find nothing approved by one age and people, which is not condemned by some other; nay, the very crimes of one age and nation, are the religious acts of another. If the perception of right and wrong is intuitive, how happens this diversity?