of the king; for furiosus solo furore punitur; but it must be an absolute madness, and a total deprivation of memory." Coke, P. C. p. 3; but in Beverly's case, 4 Rep. 124, he says "Mes in ascun cases non compos mentis poit committe haut treason, comme si il tua, ou offer a tuer le roy." "This," says Sir Mathew Hale, "is a safe exception, and I shall not question it, because it tends so much to the safety of the king's person: but yet the same author (Coke P. C. p. 6) tells us, that though this was anciently thought to be law, yet it is not so now; for such a person as cannot compass the death of the king by reason of his insanity, cannot be guilty of treason within the statute of 25 Ed. 3." Nothing can be more honourable to the independent impartiality of the English law than such an interpretation, amply illustrated in the cases of Hatfield (27 How. St. Tri.) and others, who had attempted the life of his late Majesty George the 3d; and this more especially, as the king must at all times be more exposed to this species of attack than any other person; for beside the sense of supposed wrong, delay or perversion of justice, exaggerated political feeling,[1] or other causes all pointing the maniac to the same object, there is no madness more frequent than fancied greatness; lunatic asylums are filled with imaginary emperors, kings, princes, and nobles, whose only glimmering of reason is to direct their vengeance against the supposed usurpers of their dignities.
"He who is guilty of any crime whatever through his voluntary drunkenness shall be punished for it as much as if he had been sober." 1 Hawk. P. C. 3. "A drunkard," says Sir E. Coke, (1 Ins. 247) "who
- ↑ For the case of Bellingham executed for the murder of Mr. Percival, see Appendix to Collinson on Lunacy.
