Yet something more remains to be said about the popular conception of the word “conscience.” This word, as commonly used, denotes an emotional state which, far from being in harmony with the ideals of the group, often denotes the very opposite condition. It is hardly necessary to remark that the fear of being found out does not imply loyalty to the group any more than it implies the recognition of that which makes for power, wisdom, and peace in the individual. Indeed, conscience as popularly experienced, involving as it does anxiety, trepidation, self-abasement, and a host of other introversive tendencies, is an ethical liability, both to the group and to the individual. The man who has transgressed the will of the group is surely not a bit better off because of his fear of being caught, nor can he regard his fear, even though he has already been tortured by it, as giving him any right to a mitigation of the penalty. As for himself, the conscience-stricken individual may have so long squandered his energy in his effort to conceal his offence as to bring him very close to ethical bankruptcy. The picture we draw is not extreme,—it can be duplicated in every neighborhood, if not in every family on the globe. For conscience, as it is usually experienced, is a painful, withdrawing reaction, implying negation rather than affirmation, incoordination rather than skilful prevision, and morbidity instead of frank, overt, constructive action. Accurate indeed is the phrase, “The pangs of conscience,” as a description of the organic turmoil incident to this condition of mal-adjustment. Can it not, then, be truthfully said, that in the cases just described conscience is a pathological phenomenon? Thus to discover that the popular form of conscience implies a vice rather than a virtue is not, however, enough. We wish also to know how and why this form of conscience has attained so great a vogue. And here again we touch upon matters of the greatest importance for a mechanistic ethics.