before heaven and earth; when besides, as we all know, the divine law condemns to hell all who are found guilty of mortal sin that they have not blotted out during life by sincere repentance; what else can the Son of man as the Judge of all men, appointed to that office by His heavenly Father,—what else can He do but punish the guilty according to the strictness of the law? All the circumstances of the case are evident, and nothing remains but to pronounce the terrible sentence: “Depart from Me, you cursed, into everlasting fire which was prepared for the devil and his angels.”[1] But, O God of goodness, if a judge appointed by the sovereign has not the power of showing mercy to the convicted criminal, yet we know that that power is held and is often used by the sovereign himself. Now Thou art the King of kings, and the only law-giver. Canst Thou not then respite a poor mortal in this case, and save him from eternal torments, or at least sentence him to a milder form of punishment? No! “I am the Lord, and I change not.”[2] I am the Lord, and never retract what I have once uttered: “Heaven and earth shall pass away: but My words shall not pass away,”[3] nor be frustrated. And, my dear brethren, suppose that Our Lord could change His law, and as supreme Judge show mercy on the last day; to whom should He show it? To the sinner, who departs this life without repentance? But for what reason? There must be some motive to urge the Judge to be merciful in such a case. And no such motive is at hand; for the sinner who is to be condemned shall then be utterly unworthy of any favor or mercy from his Judge, as we shall see in the
Second Part.
For three reasons the sovereign may pardon a criminal. There are three motives which can move the judge to pity, or justify the sovereign in dispensing the poor criminal from suffering the extreme penalty of the law. First, when the crime is committed through accident or misfortune, without deliberation and for the first time. In such a case something is accorded to human weakness; for instance, if a man who is otherwise peaceably inclined happens to be overcome by drink, and in a fit of passion plunges his sword into the bosom of his friend. Hardly is the crime committed when he bewails his unfortunate
