in criminal law, is the remitting or forgiving an offence committed against the king.
Law (says an able writer), cannot be framed on principles of compassion to guilt; yet justice, by the constitution of England, is bound to be administered in mercy: this is promised by the king in his coronation oath; and it is that act of his government which is the most personal and most entirely his own. The king condemns no man; that rugged task he leaves to his courts of justice: the great operation of his sceptre is mercy. His power of pardoning was said by our Saxon ancestors to be derived à lege sine dignitate; and it is declared in parliament, by stat. 27 Hen. VIII., c. 24. that no other person hath power to pardon or remit any treason or felonies whatsoever; but that the king hath the whole and sole power thereof, united and knit to the imperial crown of this realm.
This is indeed one of the great advantages of monarchy in general above any other form of government, that there is a magistrate who has it in his power to extend mercy wherever he thinks it is deserved; holding a court of equity in his own breast, to soften the rigour of the general law, in such criminal cases as merit an exemption from punishment. Pardons (according to some theorists) should be excluded in a perfect legislature, where punishments are mild, but certain; for that the clemency of the prince seems a tacit disapprobation of the laws. But the exercise of pardons must necessarily introduce a very dangerous power in the judge or jury; that of construing the criminal law by the spirit instead of the letter; or else it must be holden, what no man will seriously avow, that the situation and circumstances of the offender (though they alter not the essence of the crime) ought to make no distinction in the punishment. In democracies, however, this power of pardon can never subsist; for there nothing higher is acknowledged than the magistrate who administers the laws: and it would be impolitic for the power of judging and of pardoning to centre in one and the same person. This (as the prescient Montesquieu observes) would oblige him very often to contradict himself, to make and to unmake his decisions: it would tend to confound all ideas of right among the mass of people; as they would find it difficult to tell, whether a prisoner were discharged by his innocence, or obtained a pardon through favour.
In Holland, therefore, if there be no faithholder, there is no power of pardoning lodged in any other member of the state. But in monarchies the king acts in a superior sphere; and though he regulates the whole government as the first mover, yet he does not appear in any of the disagreeable or injurious parts of it. Whenever the nation see him personally engaged, it is only in works of legislature, magnificence, or compassion. To him therefore the people look up as the fountain of nothing but bounty and grace; and these repeated acts of goodness, coming immediately from his own hand, endear the sovereign to his subjects, and contribute more than anything to root in their hearts that filial affection and personal loyalty which are the sure establishment of a prince.
The king may pardon all offences merely against the crown or the public; excepting, 1. That, to preserve the liberty of the subject, the committing any man to prison out of the realm, "by the habeas corpus act," 31 Car. II. c. 2. made a promissum, unpardonable even by the king. Nor, 2. can the king pardon, where private justice is principally concerned in the prosecution of offenders: Non potest rex gratiam facere cum injuria et damno aliorum. Therefore, in appeals of all kinds (which are the suit, not of the king, but of the party injured), the prosecutor may release; but the king cannot pardon. Neither can he pardon a common nuisance, while it remains unredeemed, or so as to prevent an abatement of it; though afterwards he may remit the fine: because though the prosecution is vested in the king to avoid the multiplicity of suits, yet (during its continuance) this offence favours more of the nature of a private injury to each individual in the neighbourhood, than of a public wrong. Neither, lastly, can the king pardon an offence against a popular or penal statute, after information brought; for thereby the informer hath acquired a private property in his part of the penalty.
There is also a restriction of a peculiar nature, that affects the prerogative of pardoning, in case of parliamentary impeachments, viz. that the king's pardon cannot be pleaded to any such impeachment, so as to impede the inquiry, and stop the prosecution of great and notorious offenders. Therefore, when, in the reign of Charles II. the earl of Danby was impeached by the house of commons of high treason and other misdemeanors, and pleaded the king's pardon in bar of the same, the commons alleged, "That there was no precedent that ever any pardon was granted to any person impeached by the commons of high treason, or other high crimes, depending the impeachment;" and thereupon resolved, "That the pardon so pleaded was illegal and void, and ought not to be allowed in bar of the impeachment of the commons of England;" for which resolution they assigned this reason to the house of lords, "That the setting up a pardon to be a bar of an impeachment defeats the whole use and effect of impeachments: for should this point be admitted, or stand doubted, it would totally discourage the exhibiting any for the future; whereby the chief institution for the preservation of the government would be destroyed." Soon after the Revolution, the commons renewed the same claim, and voted, Pardon voted, "That a pardon is not pleadable in bar of an impeachment." And at length, it was enacted by the act of settlement, 12 & 13 W. III. c. 2. "That no pardon under the great seal of England shall be pleadable to an impeachment by the commons in parliament." But, after the impeachment has been solemnly heard and determined, it is not understood that the king's royal grace is farther restrained or abridged; for, after the impeachment and attainder of the six rebel lords in 1715, three of them were from time to time reprieved by the crown; and at length received the benefit of the king's most gracious pardon.
The effect of such pardon by the king, is to make the offender a new man; to acquit him of all corporal penalties and forfeitures annexed to that offence for which he obtains his pardon; and not so much to restore his former, as to give him a new credit and capacity. But nothing can restore or purify the blood when once corrupted, if the pardon be not allowed till after attainder, but the high and transcendant power of parliament. Yet if a person attainted receives the king's pardon, and afterwards hath a son, that son may be heir to his father; because the father being made a new man, might transmit new inheritable blood; tho', had he been born before the pardon, he could never have inherited at all.
Such is the nature of pardons in this kingdom. These, like other good things, may doubtless be abused; and if they are in any instance, their abuse deserves censure; but that in their nature they should be counted absurd, arbitrary, and destructive of morality, can, we suspect, proceed from nothing but from the presumptive petulance of modern reformers, or from the new system of civil equality.
We are told, however, by a late champion for the Rights of Man, that "the very word to a reflecting mind is fraught with absurdity. What is the rule that ought in all cases to prescribe to my conduct?" Surely justice: understanding by justice the greatest utility of the whole mass of beings that may be influenced by my conduct. What then is clemency? It can be nothing but the pitiatile egotism of him who imagines he can do something better than justice. Is it right that I should suffer constraint for a certain offense? The rectitude of my suffering must be founded in its tendency to promote the general welfare. He therefore that pardons me, iniquitously prefers the imaginary interest of an individual, and utterly neglects what he owes to the whole. He bestows that which I ought not to receive, and which he has no right to give. Is it right, on the contrary, that I should not undergo the suffering in question? Will he, by refusing me from suffering, do a benefit to me, and no injury to others? He will then be a notorious delinquent, if he allow me to suffer. There is indeed a considerable defect in this last supposition. If, while he benefits me, he do no injury to others, he is infallibly performing a public service. If I suffered in the arbitrary manner which the supposition includes, the whole would sustain an unquestionable injury in the injustice that was perpetrated. And yet the man who prevents this odious injustice, has been accustomed to arrogate to himself the attribute of clement, and the apparently sublime, but in reality tyrannical, name of forgiveness. For, if he do more than has been here described, instead of glory he ought to take shame to himself, as an enemy to the interest of human kind. If every action, and especially every action in which the happiness of a rational being is concerned, be susceptible of a certain rule, then caprice must be in all cases excluded: there can be no action, which if I neglect, I shall have discharged my duty; and, if I perform, I shall be entitled to applause."
Such is the reasoning of this zealous democrat; reasoning which, in our opinion, betrays want of feeling or ignorance of human nature. That human nature is such as, in the aggregate, to need control, no one who is acquainted with it will deny; and there appears to be no other method of controlling mankind but by general laws; and these laws may, through the natural imperfection of human affairs, be cruel in one case, where they are just in another. Cases may likewise occur where the sentence of the law, without its execution, will answer every purpose which could be expected from it; and where the execution of it would be extreme cruelty, though it might in strict unfeeling language be called justice, because in conformity with the letter of the law: Yet though such cases may and do often occur, it would indeed be absurd to abolish any of those laws which the security of civil society has required; and therefore the only natural remedy against legal injustice is the system of pardons.
Our author next goes on to trace the origin of pardons; and instead of a definite system of law, we are told that it is necessary to have a court of reason, to which the decisions of a court of law shall be brought for revision: a remedy apparently too vague and indeterminate to produce any lasting or good effect; and the proposal of which results from supposing mankind more virtuous and more knowing than they really are. We are next led to consider the abuses of pardons; from whence our author would draw an argument for their abolition; a species of reasoning unfair and unphilosophical. He tells us, that the authority in this case is placed first in the judge and next in the king and council. "Now (says he), laying aside the propriety or impropriety of this particular selection, there is one grievous abuse which ought to strike the most superficial observer. These persons, with whom the principal trust is reposed, consider their functions in this respect as a matter purely incidental, exercise them with superfluities, and in many instances with the most scanty materials to guide their judgment. This grows in a considerable degree out of the very name of pardon, which implies a work of supererogatory benevolence."
Now it is obvious to remark, that pardons are in general granted in consequence of an application from people who have more than scanty materials to guide their judgments, and on whose fidelity in relating the circumstances of the case, confidence is placed or not according to their several characters. Our author next proceeds to the arbitrary character of pardons. "Such a system (he says), to speak it truly, is a lottery of death, in which each man draws his ticket for reprieve or execution, as undefinable accidents shall decide." The allusion here to a lottery ticket is peculiarly unfortunate and indecent, nor does the whole sentence show any great degree of candour. It is possible to define Pardon. a particular crime, and to annex a particular punishment to the commission of it; but the nature of morality consists not in the external action, but in the motives which prompted to it. Definite law cannot, however, always make this distinction; and after the sentence of the law is pronounced, it comes to be considered whether there are any alleviating circumstances in the case; and whether there are or not, must depend on the particulars or accidents of the case: and it is indeed impossible to suppose that these accidents could be previously defined; their nature does not admit of it. To particularize and define every mode of an action which imagination can conceive, or which experience has shown us may happen, would indeed be an Herculean labour; and we might literally say with the apostle, that the world could not contain the books that might be written. We are, however, told, that "reason is a thousand times more explicit and intelligible than law;" and when we are accustomed to consult her, the certainty of her decisions would be such, as men practised in our present courts are totally unable to conceive." Were reason, however, appointed to be appealed to in all cases, and to be the final criterion, it would leave far greater room for wilfulness than any mode at present in practice. Reason is a very uncertain and indefinite term, and may be made anything, according to the circumstances or passions of men. Our reforming neighbours the French have raised a statue to reason and to truth; but what claim they have to either, Mr Godwin must himself decide.
We are next told that pardons are destructive to morality. "Another very important consequence (says our author) grows out of the system of pardons. A system of pardons is a system of unmitigated slavery. I am taught to expect a certain desirable event, from what? From the clemency, the uncontrolled, unmerited kindness of a fellow mortal. Can any be more degrading? The pellucidous servility of the man who devotes himself with everlasting obsequiousness to another, because that other having begun to be unjust, relents in his career; the ardour with which he confesses the rectitude of his sentence and the enormity of his defects, will constitute a tale that future ages will find it difficult to understand. What are the sentiments in this respect that are alone worthy of a rational being? Give me that, and that only, which without injustice you cannot refuse. More than justice it would be disgraceful for me to ask, and for you to bestow. I stand upon the foundation of right. This is a title which brute force may refuse to acknowledge, but which all the force in the world cannot annihilate. By refusing this plea you may prove yourself unjust, but in yielding to it you grant me but my due. If, all things considered, I be the fit subject of a benefit, the benefit is merited: merit in any other sense is contradictory and absurd. If you bestow upon me unmerited advantage, you are a recreant from the general good. I may be base enough to thank you; but if I were virtuous, I should condemn you. These sentiments alone are consistent with true independence of mind. He that is accustomed to regard virtue as an affair of favour and grace, cannot be eminently virtuous. If he occasionally perform an action of apparent kindness, he will applaud the generosity of his sentiments; and if he abstain, he will acquit himself with Paregorics the question, 'May I not do what I will with my own?' In the same manner, when he is treated benevolently by another, he will in the first place be unwilling to examine strictly into the reasonableness of this treatment, because benevolence, as he imagines, is not subject to any inflexibility of rule; and, in the second place, he will not regard his benefactor with that erect and unembarrassed mien, that complete sense of equality, which is the only immovable basis of virtue and happiness."
Such is Mr Godwin's conclusion on this subject; and we leave it with our readers to determine, whether his system or that which we at present enjoy would be the more rigorous or unjust; or whether mankind are indeed arrived at that eminent pitch of virtue, as to disdain every favour which they do not absolutely merit. The Christian religion speaks a different language; but amidst the rage of popular reform, its small still voice is unheard and neglected.