As conscience is simply the completest product of mental organization, it will of course share in whatever defect there may be in the mental life as a whole. In the lower grades of idiocy we may assume that there is no system in the mind from which a conscience could spring. In a higher degenerate of the unstable type, there is a conscience, but it is vacillating in its judgments, transient in duration and ineffectual in control, proportionally to the mental disintegration which it reflects. We all, probably, can think of people conspicuously lacking in self-control, and it will perhaps be evident, when we reflect upon them, that their consciences are of this sort. The voice of conscience, with them, is certain to be chiefly an echo of temporary emotions, because a synthesis embracing long periods of time is beyond their range; it is frequently inaudible, on account of their being engrossed by passing impulses, and their conduct is largely without any rational control at all. They are likely to suffer sharp and frequent attacks of remorse, on account of failure to live up to their standards, but it would seem that the wounds do not go very deep as a rule, but share in the general superficiality of their lives. People of this sort, if not too far gone in weakness, are probably the ones who profit most by punishment, because they are helped by the sharp and definite pain which it associates with acts that they recognize as wrong, but cannot keep from doing without a vivid emotional deterrent. They are also the ones who, in their eagerness to escape from the pains of fluctuation and inconsistency, are most prone to submit blindly to some external and dogmatic authority. Unable to rule themselves, they crave a master, and if he only is a master, that is, one capable of grasping and dominating the emotions by which they are swayed, they will often cleave to him and kiss the rod.