132 THE REV. H. J. CLARKE ON THE 
ence, and whose powers were formidable, had pronounced 
the victim of his treachery to be worthy of death. In his 
former associates he could see nothing which might have 
made him apprehensive of their vengeance, and in forfeiting 
their good opinion he had laid under a heavy obligation the 
magnates of his people, and might now hope for large re- 
wards, if in continuing to place his services at their disposal 
he were to show intelligent zeal. But no sooner does he 
become aware that his deed is certain to have a tragical issue 
and cannot be undone, than he wakes up from pleasing anti- 
cipations to the reflection that he has betrayed imnocent 
blood. The possession of the blood-money now fills him 
with unendurable disquietude. Finding that the persons 
from whom he received it decline to take it back from his 
hands, he flings it away. Yet he cannot rest: existence 
itself has become a burden which he can no longer bear. A 
desperate effort to get rid of it with suicidal hands is the last 
recorded testimony he bears to that horror of himself which 
is the consequence of his abominable deed. By this act of 
self-murder he makes it evident that what he dreads most. is 
no future penalty, not even punishment in another state of 
existence; for if he were trembling at the prospect of an 
account to be rendered in a judgment after death, why should 
he precipitate the issue of the summons to appear? Are not 
all the efforts of shrinking fear in such a case determined by 
the longing for a respite, and is there not ever present the 
readiness to catch at any seeming warrant for the faimtest 
hope of eventual escape from the impending doom? How, 
then, is that state of mind to be accounted for which makes 
the continuance of conscious existence insupportably hor- 
rible? Will it suffice to reply, “ Any action that is hostile 
to our interest excites a form of disapprobation, such as 
belongs to wounded self-interest?” or, ‘Any action that 
puts another to pain may so affect our natural sympathy as 
to be disapproved and resented on that: ground?” * What 
if a murderer believes that he has sent a Lazarys to Abra- 
ham’s bosom? Now that the pain he inflicted is at an end, 
what is there which, from an altruistic point of view, should 
cause him to, feel otherwise than gratified? As to the moral 
character of the deed, he can have no sufficient reason for 
feeling uneasy, if we are to accept the doctrine that “a 
moral act is . . . . an act prescribed by the social 
authority, and rendered obligatory upon every citizen,” and 
* Mental and Moral Science, by A. Bain, “ Ethics,” Part 1, ch. iii, § 11, 
