(2) The obstructive conscience, that has become set and will not suffer change.  Here we can put all the earnest “stand-patters,” who resist innovation of every sort.  Slaves of the particular standards that they happen to have grown up in, unable to conceive that their individual brand of religion may not be the ultimate truth, horror-struck at the suggestion that we should forsake the ways of our fathers, their conscientious conservatism stands like a rock in the way of progress.

(3) The ascetic conscience, that overemphasizes the need of sacrifice, and deletes all the positive joy of life for the sake of freedom from possible pain.  This particular misdirection of conscience is not prominent in contemporary life; but at certain periods, as among some of the mediaeval saints, or the early Puritans, this hypertrophy of conscience has been a serious blight.

(4) The anxious conscience, that magnifies trifles and gives us no rest with its incessant suggestions, lest we forget, lest we forget.  This type of over conscientiousness is a form of unhealthy self consciousness, a bane to its possessor and a nuisance to every one within range.

These familiar evils that may go with the utmost good will show us that good will or conscientiousness is not enough.  The conscientious man may not only leave undone important duties; his good will may lead him to push in exactly the wrong direction and do great harm.  There are thus two ways of judging a man.  First, did he do the best he knew?  Did he live up to his conscience?  Secondly, did he do what was really best?  Was his conscience properly developed and directed?  Our approval must often be divided; we may rate him high by the standard of conscientiousness, but low in his standard of morality.  This is the familiar distinction between what is objectively right and what is subjectively right.  An objectively right action is “one such that, if it be done, the total value of the universe will be at least as great as if any other possible alternative had been done by the agent”; whereas “it is subjectively right for the agent to do what he judges to be most probably objectively right on his information"-whether he judges correctly or not. [Footnote:  C. D. Broad in International Journal of Ethics, vol. 24, pp. 316, 320.] It may then be right (in one sense) for a man to do an act which is wrong (in the other sense) [Footnote:  Strictly speaking, there are four possible usages of the word “right”:  An act is right which (a) is actually going to have the best consequences; which (b) might be expected, on our best human knowledge, to have the best consequences; which (c) the actor, on his partial information, and with his partial powers of judgment, expects to have the best consequences; or which (d) his conscience approves, without reference to consequences.] What is the justification of praise and blame?  Kant was expressing a familiar thought when he wrote that a man deserved no praise for either instinctive or calculating acts.  Why should we praise a man for doing what he wants to do, what is the most natural and easy thing for him to do, or what he can foresee will bring about desirable consequences?  Should we not praise only the man who fights his inclinations, does right when he does not want to, and without foresight of ultimate gain?