The ufurper Oliver Cromwell found to his dire experience, that the grandeur

cent; all in vain. Gilles being profecuted before the three eftates of the province for high treason, was unanimoufly abfolved; which irritated the Duke more and more. Arthur of Montauban artfully fuggested to his master to try poifon; which having miscarried, they next refolved to starve the prifoner to death. The unfortunate prince, through the bars of a window, cried aloud for bread; but the paffengers durft not fupply him. One poor woman only had courage more than once to flip fome bread within the window. He charged a priest, who had received his confeffion, to declare to the Duke, "That feeing juftice was refufed him in this "world, he appealed to Heaven; and called upon "the Duke to appear before the judgement-feat of "God in forty days." The Duke and his favou. rite, amazed that the prince lived fo long without nourishment, employed affaffins to fmother him with his bed-cloaths. The priest, in obedience to the orders he had received, prefented himself before the Duke, and with a loud voice cited him in name of the deceased Lord Gilles to appear before God in forty days. Shame and remorfe verified the prediction. The Duke was feized with a fudden terror; and the image of his brother, expiring by his orders, haunted him day and night. He decay'd daily without any marks of a regular disease, and died within the forty days in frightful agony.

See this fubject further illuftrated in the Sketch Principles and Progress of Theology, chap. 1.

which he had attained with fo much cunning and courage, did not contribute to his happiness; for with happiness guilt is inconfiftent. Confcious that he deserved punishment for his crimes, and dreading its being inflicted upon him, all around appeared to him treacherous friends or bitter enemies. Death, which with intrepidity he had braved in the field, was now. timorously apprehended from affaffins, With a piercing and anxious eye he furveyed every new face. He wore armour under his cloaths, and never moved a step without his guards, Seldom he slept three nights together in the fame chamber; nor in any but what had a back-door, at which centinels were placed. Society terrified him by reflecting on his unknown enemies, numerous and implacable. Solitude aftonished him by leaving him without protection. Can all the glory and power that this earth can afford be a counterbalance for fuch mifery?

No tranfgreffion of felf-duty escapes punishment, more than tranfgreffion of duty to others. The punishments, tho' not the fame, differ in degree more than in kind. Injustice is punished with re

morfe: impropriety with fhame, which is remorfe in a lower degree. Injustice raises indignation in the beholder, and fo doth every flagrant impropriety: flighter improprieties receive a milder punishment, being rebuked with fome degree of contempt, and commonly with derifion (a).

So far we have been led in a beaten track; but in attempting to proceed, we are entangled in mazes and intricacies. An action well intended may happen to produce no good; and an action ill intended may happen to produce no mifchief: a man overawed by fear, may be led to do mifchief against his will; and a perfon, mistaking the ftandard of right and wrong, may be innocently led to do acts of injustice. By what rule, in fuch cafes, are rewards and punishments to be apply'd? Ought a man to be rewarded when he does no good, or punished when he does no mischief: ought he to be punished for doing mischief against his will, or for doing mifchief when he thinks he is acting innocently? Thefe queftions fuggeft a doubt, whether the standard of

(a) See Elements of Criticifm, chap. 1o.

right and wrong be applicable to rewards and punishments.

We have feen that there is an invariable ftandard of right and wrong, which depends not in any degree on private opinion or conviction. By that ftandard, all pecuniary claims are judged, all claims of property, and, in a word, every demand founded on intereft, not excepting reparation, as will afterward appear. But with refpect to the moral characters of men, and with respect to rewards and punishments, a different standard is erected in the common fense of mankind, neither rigid nor inflexible; which is, the opinion that men have of their own actions. It is mentioned above, that a man is esteemed innocent in doing what he himself thinks right, and guilty in doing what he himfelf thinks wrong. In applying this standard to rewards and punishments, we reward thofe who in doing wrong are however convinced that they are innocent; and punish those who in doing right are however convinced that they are guilty.*. Some, it is true, are so pervert

ed

* Virtuous and vicious, innocent and guilty, fignify qualities both of men and of their actions. Appro

ed by improper education or by fuperftition, as to espouse numberless abfurd tenets, contradictory to the standard of right and wrong; and yet fuch men are no exception from the general rule: if they act according to confcience, they are innocent, and safe against punishment however wrong the action may be; and if they act against conscience, they are guilty and punishable however right the action may be it is abhorrent to every moral perception, that a guilty perfon be rewarded, or an innocent perfon punished. Further, if mischief be done contrary to Will, as where a man is compelled by fear or by torture, to reveal the secrets of his party; he may be grieved for yeilding to the weakness of his nature, contrary to his firmest resolves; but he has no check of conscience, and upon that account is not liable to punishment. And lastly, in order that perfonal merit and demerit may not in any measure depend on chance, we are so constituted as to place innocence and guilt, not on the event, but on the in

Approbation and disapprobation, praise and blame, fignify certain emotions or fentiments of thofe who fee or contemplate men and their actions.

tention