This article considers the political significance of sentimental language in the treason trial of James Hadfield. It argues that the sentimental resolution of the trial needs to be understood in relation to the pressures of modern war on the British nation and the political instability associated with the figure of the returned soldier. The trial dispelled the threat of revolution that Hadfield's attack on the king presented, but it also helped establish a new form of symbolic body politics in Britain that valorised both the king and the soldier as figures of manly self-command.Despite the intensely charged political atmosphere of the 1790s, the only individual brought to trial for making a direct attempt on the life of George III was the retired soldier James Hadfield. Believing himself divinely inspired, Hadfield had fired a pistol at the king at the Drury Lane theatre on 15 May 1800 in an effort to bring about what he thought would be a millennial end to the world. Immediately apprehended and interrogated at the theatre, it was readily apparent that he had acted alone and was suffering from severe delusions. The government did not connect him to a revolutionary conspiracy. 1 Nonetheless, a decision was made to charge him with high treason, and he was tried in the court of King's Bench the following month. His trial has received considerable attention from legal historians because his subsequent acquittal on the grounds of insanity was a surprising development, one that ignored legal precedents and eventually led to profound changes in the nature of insanity as a defence in Britain. This focus on law and insanity has meant, however, that there has been little attention given to the broader political and cultural contexts of treason, regicide and revolutionary war.This article explores these contextual elements by examining the case and its surrounding publicity in relation to what John Barrell has identified as a 'language of sentiment' that was central to loyalist representations of the king and his safety during the 1790s. Given the notoriety of Hadfield's assault, it is not surprising that the full force of sentimental pathos was brought to bear on the incident and celebrations of the king's preservation. 2 Hadfield, conversely, appeared in public discourse immediately after the attack as a grotesque monstrosity lacking the most elementary of human feelings. As Barrell observes, however, it is of the nature of sentiment that its effects cannot be fully controlled. 3 Hadfield's subsequent acquittal can be read as one such effect of sentiment, as the trial developed into a sentimental narrative of the soldier's service and the king's paternal benevolence that could dispel the revolutionary fears raised by the shooting. For Dana Rabin the use of sentiment in the case was, moreover, central to the formation of a new approach to criminality in Britain, a shift that was consolidated with the passage through Parliament, immediately after the trial,