Y.M. Apparently, then, all men, both good and bad ones, devote their lives to contenting their consciences. O.M. Yes. That is a good enough name for it: Conscience—that independent Sovereign, that insolent absolute Monarch inside of a man who is the man’s Master. There are all kinds of consciences, because there are all kinds of men. You satisfy an assassin’s conscience in one way, a philanthropist’s in another, a miser’s in another, a burglar’s in still another. As a _guide_ or _incentive_ to any authoritatively prescribed line of morals or conduct (leaving _training_ out of the account), a man’s conscience is totally valueless. I know a kind-hearted Kentuckian whose self-approval was lacking—whose conscience was troubling him, to phrase it with exactness—_because he had neglected to kill a certain man_—a man whom he had never seen. The stranger had killed this man’s friend in a fight, this man’s Kentucky training made it a duty to kill the stranger for it. He neglected his duty—kept dodging it, shirking it, putting it off, and his unrelenting conscience kept persecuting him for this conduct. At last, to get ease of mind, comfort, self-approval, he hunted up the stranger and took his life. It was an immense act of _self-sacrifice_ (as per the usual definition), for he did not want to do it, and he never would have done it if he could have bought a contented spirit and an unworried mind at smaller cost. But we are so made that we will pay _anything_ for that contentment—even another man’s life. Y.M. You spoke a moment ago of _trained_ consciences. You mean that we are not _born_ with consciences competent to guide us aright? O.M. If we were, children and savages would know right from wrong, and not have to be taught it. Y.M. But consciences can be _trained_? O.M. Yes. Y.M. Of course by parents, teachers, the pulpit, and books. O.M. Yes—they do their share; they do what they can. Y.M. And the rest is done by— O.M. Oh, a million unnoticed influences—for good or bad: influences which work without rest during every waking moment of a man’s life, from cradle to grave. Y.M. You have tabulated these? O.M. Many of them—yes. Y.M. Will you read me the result? O.M. Another time, yes. It would take an hour. Y.M. A conscience can be trained to shun evil and prefer good? O.M. Yes. Y.M. But will it for spirit-contenting reasons only? O.M. It _can’t_ be trained to do a thing for any _other_ reason. The thing is impossible. Y.M. There _must_ be a genuinely and utterly self-sacrificing act recorded in human history somewhere. O.M. You are young. You have many years before you. Search one out. Y.M. It does seem to me that when a man sees a fellow-being struggling in the water and jumps in at the risk of his life to save him— O.M. Wait. Describe the _man_. Describe the _fellow-being_. State if there is an _audience_ present; or if they are _alone_. Y.M. What have these things to do with the splendid act?