of mine can believe that I could utter a recommendation of giving no quarter to a yielding and unoffending foe, it is not the death which I am about to suffer that I deserve—­no punishment could be adequate to such a crime.  My lords, I can not only acquit my soul of such an intention, but I declare, in the presence of that God before whom I must shortly appear, that the favourite doctrine of my heart was, that no human being should suffer death but when absolute necessity required it.  My lords, I feel a consolation in making this declaration, which nothing else could afford me, because it is not only a justification of myself, but where I am sealing my life with that breath which cannot be suspected of falsehood, what I say may make some impression upon the minds of men not holding the same doctrine.  I declare to God I know of no crime but assassination which can eclipse or equal that of which I am accused.  I discern no shade of guilt between that and taking away the life of a foe, by putting a bayonet to his heart when he is yielding and surrendering.  I do request the bench to believe that of me—­I do request my country to believe that of me—­I am sure God will think that of me.  Now, my lords, I have no favour to ask of the court; my country has decided I am guilty, and the law says I shall suffer—­it sees that I am ready to suffer.  But, my lords, I have a favour to request of the court that does not relate to myself.  My lords, I have a brother whom I have even loved dearer than myself, but it is not from any affection for him alone that I am induced to make the request.  He is a man, and therefore I would hope prepared to die if he stood as I do—­though I do not stand unconnected; but he stands more dearly connected.  In short, my lords, to spare your feelings and I my own, I do not pray that that I should not die, but that the husband, the father, the son—­all comprised in one person—­holding these relations dearer in life to him than any other man I know—­for such a man I do not pray a pardon, for that is not in the power of the court, but I pray a respite for such time as the court in its humanity and discretion shall think proper.  You have heard, my lords, that his private affairs require arrangement.  When I address myself to your lordships, it is with the knowledge you will have of all the sons of our aged mother being gone.  Two have perished in the service of the King—­one very recently.  I only request that, disposing of me with what swiftness either the public mind or justice requires, a respite may be given to my brother, that the family may acquire strength to bear it all.  That is all I wish; I shall remember it to my last breath, and I shall offer up my prayers for you to that Being who has endued us all with the sensibility to feel.  That is all I ask.  I have nothing more to say.”

It was four o’clock, p.m., when the judge proceeded to pass sentence, and the following morning was appointed