Even more pointedly John Dewey writes in his criticism of the doctrine of self-denial. “Morals is a matter of direction, not of suppression. The urgency of desires cannot be got rid of; nature cannot be expelled. If the need of happiness, of satisfaction of capacity, is checked in one direction, it will manifest itself in another. If the direction which is checked is an unconscious and wholesome one, the one which is taken will be likely to be morbid and perverse. The one who is conscious of continually denying himself cannot rid himself of the idea that it ought to be ‘made up’ to him; that a compensating happiness is due him for what he has sacrificed, somewhat increased, if anything, on account of the unnatural virtue he has displayed. To be self-sacrificing is to ‘lay up’ merit, and this achievement must surely be rewarded with happiness—if not now, then later. Those who habitually live on the basis of conscious self-denial are likely to be exorbitant in the demands which they make on some one near them, some member of their family or some friend; likely to blame others if their own ‘virtue’ does not secure for itself an exacting attention which reduces others to the plane of servility. Often the doctrine of self-sacrifice leads to an inverted hedonism; we are to be good—that is, forego pleasure—now, that we may have a greater measure of enjoyment in some future paradise of bliss. Or, the individual who has taken vows of renunciation is entitled by that very fact to represent spiritual authority on earth and to lord it over others.” They who wish even a more striking picture of the extent to which the negative type of conscience degrades the intellect, have only to consult Alfred Adler’s “The Neurotic Constitution.” If Dr. Adler correctly depicts the salient traits of the neurotic, many intuitionists themselves are by implication introverts, and consequently forfeit their claims to ethical leadership. The neurotic is described as “a person possessing anxiety,” “the self-sacrificing virtue,” “a marked sensitiveness,” “an irritable debility,” “an estrangement from reality,” as well as “a person with a strong tendency to symbolization,” and a penchant for “guiding fictions” invented for the purpose of compensating him for his feeling of inferiority at having lost solid contacts with reality. This, then, is the success which the conscience-theory has met with at the hands of scientific experts,—keen and sympathetic observers of the ways of men. Such an account of the degeneration of conscience into a self-annihilating sentiment is, however, only one chapter in the history of this concept. And while the list of uses to which the word “conscience” has been put does not furnish as solid a basis upon which to build a constructive ethical technique as did the uses of “good,” “right,” and “virtue,” we can nevertheless still find a positive ethical value for this term. How, then, will this value be discovered?