in Criminal Law, is the remitting or forgiving an offence committed against the king.

Law, says Beccaria, 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 unpleasant task he leaves to his courts of justice; the great operation of his sceptre is mercy. His power of pardoning was said by the Saxons to be derived a lege suae dignitatis; and it is declared in parliament, by stat. 27 Henry VIII. c. 24, that no other person has power to pardon or remit any treason or felonies whatsoever, but that the king has the whole and sole power thereof, united and knit to the imperial crown of this realm.

Mr Godwin, in his Inquiry concerning Political Justice, attacks this prerogative in the following terms: "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 things that may be influenced by my conduct. What then is clemency? It can be nothing but the pitiable egotism of him who imagines he can do something better than justice. Is it right that I should suffer constraint for a certain offence? The recollection of my suffering must be founded on 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 rescuing 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 pub- lic 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 element, 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.

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, which, through the natural imperfection of human affairs, may be cruel in one case if 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, although it might in strict unfeeling language be called justice, because in strict conformity with the letter of the law. Yet though such cases may and do often occur, it would 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.

Mr Godwin 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. But this is a remedy apparently too vague and indeterminate to produce any lasting or good effect; for the proposal of such a tribunal results from supposing mankind more virtuous and intelligent than they really are. He next proceeds to consider the abuses of pardons, whence he would draw an argument for their abolition. 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. Those persons with whom the principal trust is reposed, consider their functions in this respect as a matter purely incidental, exercise them with supineness, 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."

But it is obvious 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 or is not placed, according to their several characters. Mr Godwin 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, nor does the whole sentence show any great degree of candour. It is possible to define 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, however, cannot 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. But it is impossible to suppose Pareenugur 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, to be appealed to in all cases, and to be the final criterion, it would leave far greater room for villany 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, at any given time.

We are next told that pardons are destructive to morality. "Another very important consequence," says Mr Godwin, "grows out of the system of pardons. A system of pardon 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 lesson be more degrading? The pusillanimous 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 deserts,—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 resisting 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 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 being Mr Godwin's conclusion on this subject, 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 have indeed arrived at so eminent a pitch of virtue as to disdain every favour which they do not absolutely merit. The Christian religion speaks a very different language.