The Doctrine of Repentance

1. Repentance and the Gospel

“That they should repent and turn to God, and do works meet for repentance” (Acts 26:20).

Tertullus falsely accused Paul of stirring up rebellion: “We have found this man a pestilent fellow, and a mover of sedition” (Acts 24:5). In the chapter containing our text, Paul defends himself before Festus and King Agrippa.

Paul shows himself to be an orator. He wins the king’s attention in two ways. First, by his gesture: “He stretched forth his hands” (Acts 26:1), as orators customarily did. Second, by his manner of speaking: “I think myself happy King Agrippa, because I shall answer for myself before thee, touching all the things whereof I am accused” (Acts 26:2).

Paul discusses three things with such powerful rhetoric that he almost converts King Agrippa.

1. He describes his life before conversion: “After the most strait sect of our religion, I lived a Pharisee” (Acts 26:5). Before he was spiritually renewed, he was zealous for traditions. The false fire of his zeal burned so hot that it scorched everyone in his path: “Many of the saints I shut up in prison” (Acts 26:10).

2. Paul describes his conversion: “I saw in the way a light from heaven, above the brightness of the sun” (Acts 26:13). This light came from Christ’s glorified body. “And I heard a voice speaking unto me, Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou me?” When the body was hurt, the head in heaven cried out. Astonished by this light and voice, Paul fell to the earth (Acts 26:14). “And I said, Who art thou Lord? and he said, I am Jesus whom thou persecutest” (Acts 26:15). Paul was now drawn away from reliance on himself. Every belief in his own righteousness vanished, and he grafted his hope of heaven onto the stock of Christ’s righteousness.

3. Paul describes his life after conversion. The former persecutor now became a preacher: “Arise, for I have appeared unto thee, to make thee a minister, and a witness, of those things which thou hast seen” (Acts 26:16). Once God’s saving work had changed Paul, this vessel of election, he labored to do as much good as he had previously done harm. Before, he persecuted saints to death; now he preached sinners to life. God first sent him to the Jews at Damascus, then broadened his commission to preach to the Gentiles. His subject was the one in our text: “That they should repent and turn to God.” As Grotius observes, “The Gentiles worshiped false gods; the Jews worshiped the true God, but not as they ought.” What a weighty and excellent subject!

I will not debate which comes first, faith or repentance. Repentance undoubtedly appears first in a Christian’s life, yet I am inclined to think that the seeds of faith are planted in the heart first. Zanchi says, “A person cannot truly repent unless he knows that he belongs to God.” When a burning candle is brought into a room, its light appears first, but the candle existed before the light. Similarly, we see the fruits of repentance first, but the beginnings of faith were there before them.

This is why I think faith exists in seed form in the heart before repentance: repentance is a grace, so the person exercising it must be spiritually alive. How does the soul live except by faith? “The just shall live by his faith” (Heb 10:38). There must therefore already be some seeds of faith in the penitent’s heart. As Musculus says, “Repentance is born of faith.” Otherwise, repentance is dead and has no value.

But whether faith or repentance comes first, I am certain that repentance is so important that no one can be saved without it. After Paul’s shipwreck, he swam to shore on planks and broken pieces of the ship (Acts 27:44). In Adam, we all suffered shipwreck, and repentance is the only plank left on which we can swim to heaven. It is “a plank after shipwreck.”

Doctrine: Christians have a great duty to repent earnestly and turn to God: “Repent ye, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand” (Matt 3:2); “Repent therefore, and be converted, that your sins may be blotted out” (Acts 3:19); “Repent of this thy wickedness” (Acts 8:22). These three witnesses confirm this truth. Repentance is a foundational grace: “Not laying again the foundation of repentance” (Heb 6:1). Any religion not built on this foundation must fall to the ground.

Repentance is a grace required under the gospel. Some think it belongs to the law. But in the first sermon Christ ever preached, the first word of his sermon was “Repent” (Matt 4:17). His final instruction before ascending was that “repentance should be preached in his name” (Luke 24:47). The apostles all kept striking this same string: “They went out and preached that men should repent” (Mark 6:12).

Repentance is purely a gospel grace. The covenant of works allowed no repentance. Its terms were, “Sin and die.” Repentance comes through the gospel. By his blood, Christ has purchased salvation for sinners who repent. The law required personal, perfect, and perpetual obedience. It cursed everyone who failed to meet that demand: “Cursed is every one that continueth not in all things which are written in the book of the law to do them” (Gal 3:10).

It does not say, “If someone does not obey everything, let him repent,” but, “Let him be cursed.” Repentance is therefore a doctrine brought to light only by the gospel.

2. How Repentance Begins

Repentance comes about in two ways:

1. Partly through the Word. “When they heard this, they were pricked in their heart,” etc. (Acts 2:37). The preached Word is the instrument God uses to bring about repentance. It is compared to a hammer and a fire (Jer 23:29). One breaks the heart; the other melts it. What a blessing it is to have the Word preached, with its mighty power! How hard it will be for those who put out heaven’s lights to escape hell!

2. Through the Spirit. Ministers are only the pipes and organs. The Holy Spirit’s breath within them makes their words effective. Every instrument works through the power of the principal agent. “While Peter spake these words, the Holy Ghost fell on all them which heard the Word” (Acts 10:44). The Spirit working through the Word enlightens and converts. As Bernard says, “The Spirit of God is an almighty craftsman, shaping affection, breathing grace, aiding action, doing everything powerfully and ordering everything gently.”

When the Spirit touches a heart, it melts into tears: “I will pour on the Inhabitants of Jerusalem a spirit of Grace, and they shall look on me whom they have pierced, and mourn” (Zech 12:10). It is remarkable to consider how differently the Word affects people. Some hear a sermon like Josiah: their hearts are tender, and they shed tears (2 Kgs 22:19). Others are no more moved by it than a deaf person is by music. Some grow better through the Word; others grow worse. The same earth produces sweetness in the grape and bitterness in wormwood.

Why does the Word work so differently? Because the Spirit of God carries the Word to one person’s conscience but not another’s. One has received the divine anointing; the other has not (1 John 2:20). Oh, pray that the dew may fall with the manna, that the Spirit may accompany the Word. The chariot of ordinances will not carry us to heaven unless the Spirit of God joins himself to that chariot (Acts 8:29).

3. False Repentance

The next question is what repentance is. I will first show you what it is not. There are several deceptive forms of repentance. These may explain Augustine’s saying that “Repentance damns many.” He means false repentance. A person may deceive himself with a counterfeit repentance.

1. The first deception is terror under the law. A person has continued in sin for a long time. At last God arrests him, shows him the desperate danger he has exposed himself to, and fills him with anguish. After a while, the storm in his conscience blows over, and he becomes calm. He then concludes that he is truly repentant because he has felt some bitterness in sin. Do not be deceived: this is not repentance. Ahab and Judas experienced distress of mind. Being a terrified sinner is one thing; being a repentant sinner is another. A sense of guilt is enough to produce terror; grace poured into the heart produces repentance.

If pain and distress were enough to produce repentance, those damned in hell would be the most repentant, since they suffer the greatest anguish. Repentance depends on a change of heart. There may be terror without any change of heart.

2. Another deception is resolving to stop sinning. A person may make resolutions and vows without being repentant. “Thou saidst, I will not transgress” (Jer 2:20). Here was a resolution. But see what follows: “under every green tree, thou playedst the Harlot.” Despite her solemn promises, she dealt faithlessly with God and ran after her idols. Experience shows us what promises a person makes on his sickbed if God will restore his health. Yet afterward he is as bad as ever. A new temptation reveals his old heart. A resolution against sin may arise in two ways:

(1.) From immediate distress. The person resolves to stop sinning because sin is painful, rather than because it is sinful. This resolution will vanish.

(2.) From fear of future suffering. The person dreads death and hell: “I looked, and behold a pale horse, and his name that sate on him was death, and Hell followed after him” (Rev 6:8). Death is the rider, and hell follows as his attendant. What will a sinner refuse to do? What vows will he refuse to make when he knows he must die and stand before the judgment seat? Self-love produces a sickbed vow, and love of sin will overcome it. Do not trust an impassioned resolution. It rises in a storm and will die in a calm.

3. The third deception is abandoning many sinful practices. I admit that giving up sin is a great thing. Sin is so dear to a person that he would sooner part with a child than with a sinful desire: “Shall I give the fruit of my body, for the sin of my soul?” (Mic 6:7). The question asks, “Does God demand an offering of atonement from me, as Saturn, Moloch, and the other gods of the nations whom we worshiped demanded human sacrifices?” Yet a person may give up sin without repenting.

(1.) A person may give up some sins and keep others. Herod corrected many wrongs but could not give up his incest.

(2.) An old sin may be abandoned to make room for a new one. As Caussin observes, “The serpent sheds its skin every year.” You may dismiss one servant to take another. This is exchanging a sin. The sin may change while the heart remains unchanged. Someone who squandered his money in youth becomes a usurer in old age. A slave is sold to a Jew, who sells him to a Turk. His master has changed, but he remains a slave. In the same way, a person moves from one vice to another but remains a sinner.

(3.) A sin may be abandoned because of moral considerations rather than the power of grace. A person sees that, although a sin suits his taste, it does not serve his interests. It will damage his reputation, harm his health, or diminish his property. So he dismisses it for practical reasons.

Truly leaving sin means that sinful acts cease because a principle of grace has been poured into the heart, just as the air ceases to be dark when light pours into it.

4. The Nature of True Repentance

I will now explain what gospel repentance is. Repentance is a grace of God’s Spirit through which a sinner is humbled inwardly and reformed outwardly. To explain this further, repentance is a spiritual medicine made from six essential ingredients. If any one is left out, it loses its power.

1. Sight of sin.
2. Sorrow for sin.
3. Confession of sin.
4. Shame for sin.
5. Hatred for sin.
6. Turning from sin.

1. Sight of Sin

The first ingredient in repentance is sight of sin. The first part of Christ’s medicine is eye salve (Acts 26:18). The great feature noted in the prodigal’s repentance is that “He came to himself” (Luke 15:17). As Chemnitz explains, “Repentance or afterthought is contrasted with forethought; it means becoming wise after the event.” The prodigal saw himself as a sinner and nothing but a sinner. Before a person can come to Christ, he must come to himself.

In his description of repentance, Solomon puts this first: “If they shall bethink themselves” (1 Kgs 8:47). Musculus explains, “Repentance is that by which a sinner returns to himself and changes his former judgment for the better.” A person must first recognize and consider what his sin is, and “know the plague of his heart,” before he can be properly humbled for it. The first thing God created was light. In the same way, the first thing in a repentant person is enlightenment: “Now ye are light in the Lord” (Eph 5:8). The eye is made both to see and to weep. Sin must first be seen before it can be wept over.

Application: From this I conclude that where there is no sight of sin, there can be no repentance. Many people who can spot faults in others see none in themselves. They insist that they have good hearts. Would it not be strange for two people to live together, eat and drink together, and yet not know one another? This is the sinner’s condition. His body and soul live together and walk together, yet he does not know himself. He knows neither his own heart nor the hell he carries within him.

A veil hides a disfigured face. People are veiled by ignorance and self-love, so they do not see how disfigured their souls are. The devil treats them as a falconer treats a hawk: he blinds them and carries them hooded to hell. “The sword shall be upon his right eye” (Zech 11:17). People have plenty of insight into worldly matters, but the eye of their mind has been struck blind. They see no evil in sin. As Musculus says, “While sinning, we are blind.” “The sword is upon their right eye.”

2. Sorrow for Sin

The second ingredient of repentance is sorrow for sin: “I will be sorry for my sin” (Ps 38:18). Ambrose calls sorrow the embittering of the soul. The Hebrew word for being sorrowful means having the soul, as it were, crucified. This must be present in true repentance: “They shall look upon me whom they have pierced, and mourn” (Zech 12:10). It is as though they felt the nails of the cross sticking in their sides. A woman might as well expect to have a child without labor pains as someone might expect repentance without sorrow. If someone can believe without doubting, suspect his faith; if he can repent without sorrow, suspect his repentance.

Martyrs shed blood for Christ, and penitents shed tears for sin: “She stood at Jesus feet weeping” (Luke 7:38). She seemed entirely dissolved into tears. See how this human distilling vessel dripped: the sorrow of her heart flowed out through her eyes. As Brugensis says, “Sorrow arising from the knowledge of sin is thoroughly wholesome and a genuine companion of repentance.” The bronze basin in which the priests washed (Exod 30:18) foreshadowed two basins: Christ’s blood, in which we must wash by faith, and tears, in which we must wash by repentance.

A truly repentant person works to bring his heart into a sorrowful frame. He blesses God when he can weep; he welcomes a rainy day. He knows this is a repentance he will have no cause to repent of (2 Cor 7:10). Though the bread of sorrow tastes bitter, “it strengthens the heart” (Ps 104:15).

This sorrow for sin does not come easily. It is a holy agony. Scripture calls it a breaking of the heart: “The sacrifices of God, are a broken heart” (Ps 51:17); and a tearing of the heart: “Rend your hearts” (Joel 2:13). Glassius explains that “rend” may reasonably be understood in two senses: literally, tearing clothes; metaphorically, tearing the heart, which is said to be torn when the awareness of sins and God’s wrath makes it distressed and contrite. Striking the thigh (Jer 31:19), beating the breast (Luke 18:13), putting on sackcloth (Isa 22:12), and pulling out the hair (Ezra 9:3): what are all these but outward signs of inward sorrow? This sorrow is necessary for three purposes.

1. To make Christ precious. How desirable a Savior is to a troubled soul! Now Christ is truly Christ to that soul, and mercy is truly mercy. Until the heart is filled with piercing sorrow, it is not ready for Christ. God pours the oil of mercy only into a broken vessel. How welcome a surgeon is to someone bleeding from his wounds!

2. To drive out sin. Sin breeds sorrow, and sorrow kills sin. Holy sorrow is the medicinal rhubarb that purges the soul’s unhealthy humors. It is said that the tears of vine branches are good for curing leprosy. Certainly, the tears that fall from a penitent are good for curing the leprosy of sin. The salt water of tears kills the worm of conscience.

3. To prepare the way for lasting comfort. “They that sow in tears, shall reap in joy” (Ps 126:5). The penitent has a wet sowing season but a delightful harvest. Repentance opens the abscess of sin, and then the soul finds relief. After weeping, Hannah went away and “was no more sad” (1 Sam 1:18). God’s troubling the soul over sin is like the angel’s troubling the pool (John 5:4), which prepared the way for healing.

But not every sorrow proves true repentance. True and false sorrow differ as much as the fresh water of a spring and the salt water of the sea. The apostle speaks of sorrowing “after a godly manner” (2 Cor 7:9). What is this godly sorrow?

Answer: It has six qualities.

1. True godly sorrow is inward, in two ways.

First, it is sorrow of the heart. Hypocrites’ sorrow lies in their faces: “They disfigure their faces” (Matt 6:16). Beza explains that the word means erasing something and removing it from sight. Like actors, these hypocrites removed every trace of grooming and cleanliness, appearing filthy and unkempt, as though they had erased their natural faces. They put on a sour expression, but their sorrow goes no further. It is like dew that wets the leaf without soaking down to the root. Ahab’s repentance was an outward show: his clothes were torn, but his spirit was not (1 Kgs 21:27). Godly sorrow goes deep, like a vein bleeding inwardly. Altingst calls it “inward weeping.” The heart bleeds for sin: “They were pricked at their hearts” (Acts 2:37). Scapula defines the underlying word as “I strike with a point.” Since the heart plays a chief part in sinning, it must also play a chief part in sorrowing.

Second, it is sorrow for sins of the heart, the very first stirrings and risings of sin. Paul grieved over “the law in his members” (Rom 7:23). The true mourner weeps over the stirrings of pride and sinful desire. He grieves over “the root of bitterness,” even if it never blossoms into action. A wicked person may be troubled by scandalous sins; a genuine convert mourns sins of the heart.

2. Godly sorrow is sincere: it grieves more over the offense than the punishment. God’s law has been broken; his love has been abused. This melts the soul into tears. Someone may be sorry without repenting. A thief is sorry when he is caught, not because he stole, but because he faces the penalty. Hypocrites grieve only over sin’s bitter consequences. I have read of a spring that flows only on the evening before a famine. In the same way, their eyes pour out tears only when God’s judgments approach. Pharaoh was more troubled by the frogs and the river of blood than by his sin.

But godly sorrow grieves chiefly over the offense against God. Even if there were no conscience to strike, no devil to accuse, and no hell to punish, the soul would still grieve over the wrong done to God: “My sin is ever before me” (Ps 51:3). David does not say, “The threatened sword is always before me,” but “my sin.” “Oh, that I should offend so good a God and grieve my Comforter! This breaks my heart!”

Godly sorrow shows its sincerity when a Christian knows he is beyond hell’s range and will never be damned, yet still grieves over sinning against the free grace that has pardoned him.

3. Godly sorrow is trusting: it is mingled with faith. “The father of the child cried out, and said with tears; Lord I believe” (Mark 9:24). Here sorrow for sin was interwoven with faith, like a bright rainbow appearing in a rain cloud. Ambrose says, “Peter wept because guilt had crept upon him; falling is common to humanity, but his weeping belonged to faith.”

Spiritual sorrow will sink the heart unless the pulley of faith raises it. As our sin is always before us, so God’s promise must always be before us. As we must feel our sting, so we must look up to Christ, our bronze serpent. Zanchi says, “Those repent in the gospel’s way who, wounded within by sin’s sting but lifted up by confidence in God’s mercy, flee to the Lord.” Some people’s faces have become so swollen with worldly grief that they could hardly see out of their eyes. Weeping that blinds the eye of faith is not good. If no dawn of faith appears in the soul, this is despair rather than humbling oneself before God.

4. Godly sorrow is great sorrow. “In that day there shall be a great mourning, as the mourning of Hadadrimmon” (Zech 12:11). Jerome says, “At Christ’s crucifixion the faithful mourned with the greatest sorrow, as they did at the slaying of Josiah, who was Christ’s ancestor and a figure of him.” Two suns set on the day Josiah died, and there was great mourning at his funeral. Sorrow for sin must rise to such intensity.

Question 1: Does everyone experience the same degree of sorrow?

Answer: No. Sorrow admits of greater and lesser degrees. Everyone has labor pains in the new birth, but some have sharper pains than others.

(1.) Some people naturally have a harsher, more stubborn disposition and a prouder spirit. They are not easily brought to bow, so they must be humbled more deeply. A knotty piece of timber needs larger wedges driven into it.

(2.) Some have committed more heinous offenses, and their sorrow must correspond to their sin. Some patients have their sores opened with a needle, others with a lancet. Grossly wicked sinners must be more thoroughly bruised by the hammer of the law.

(3.) Some are appointed and prepared for higher service, to be especially useful to God. They must undergo a mightier work of humbling. Those whom God intends to be pillars in his church must be more thoroughly hewn. Paul, the prince of the apostles, was to be God’s standard-bearer, carrying his name before “the Gentiles and kings” (Acts 9:15). His heart therefore had to be more deeply cut open by repentance.

Question 2: But how great must everyone’s sorrow for sin be?

Answer:

(1.) It must be as great as sorrow for any worldly loss.

“They shall look on me whom they have pierced, and mourn as for an only son” (Zech 12:10). Cornelius a Lapide explains this as mourning as for an only-begotten son, for Christ the firstborn.

(2.) Sorrow for sin must surpass worldly sorrow. We must grieve more over offending God than over losing dear family members: “In that day did the Lord call to weeping, and baldness, and girding with sackcloth” (Isa 22:12). This was for sin. But when the dead are buried, we find God forbidding tears (Jer 22:10) and baldness (Jer 16:6). This indicates that sorrow for sin must exceed sorrow at the grave. There is good reason: at a burial, only a friend departs; in sin, God departs.

(3.) Sorrow for sin should be so great that it swallows up every other sorrow. When the pain of a urinary stone and the pain of gout strike together, the pain of the stone swallows up the pain of the gout.

(4.) We should find as much bitterness in weeping over sin as we ever found sweetness in committing it. Surely David found more bitterness in repentance than he ever found comfort in Bathsheba.

(5.) Our sorrow for sin must make us willing to give up the sins that brought us the greatest profit or pleasure. The medicine has been strong enough when it has purged out the disease. Likewise, a Christian has reached a sufficient measure of sorrow when the love of sin has been purged out.

5. Godly sorrow is, in some cases, joined with restitution. Contrition of heart and satisfaction through action must unite. Anyone who has wronged others financially through unjust, fraudulent dealings has a duty of conscience to compensate them. There is an explicit law for this: “He shall recompense his trespass, with the principal thereof, and give it unto him against whom he hath trespassed” (Num 5:7). Thus Zacchaeus said, “If I have wronged any man by false accusation, I restore him fourfold” (Luke 19:8). The expression means “I obtained by false accusation”; Euthymius explains it as “what I acquired through false accusation.”

When Selymus, the great Turkish ruler, lay on his deathbed, Pyrrhus urged him to devote to charity the wealth he had unjustly taken from Persian merchants. Instead, he ordered it returned to its rightful owners. Shouldn’t a Christian’s creed be better than a Turk’s Koran? It is a bad sign when someone on his deathbed leaves his soul to God and his ill-gotten goods to his friends. I can hardly think God will receive his soul. Augustine says, “Without restitution, no remission”: “Sin is not forgiven unless what was taken is restored.” And old Latimer said, “If ye restore not goods unjustly gotten, ye shall cough in hell.”

Question 1: Suppose someone has wronged another financially, and the injured person is dead. What should he do?

Answer: He should restore his ill-gotten goods to that person’s heirs and successors.

Question: But what if none of them is living?

Answer: He should restore them to God. That is, he should put his unjust gain into God’s treasury by helping the poor.

Question 2: But what if the person who committed the wrong is dead?

Answer: His heirs must make restitution. Mark what I say: if anyone inherits an estate and knows that the person who left it defrauded others and died bearing that guilt, then the heirs or executors who possess the estate have a duty of conscience to make restitution. Otherwise, they bring God’s curse upon their family.

Question 3: But if someone has wronged another and cannot restore what he took, what should he do?

Answer: He should deeply humble himself before God and promise the injured person full satisfaction if the Lord enables him to provide it. God will accept the will for the deed.

6. Godly sorrow is lasting. A few tears shed in a burst of emotion will not do. Some people begin weeping during a sermon, but their tears are like an April shower, soon over, or a vein opened and immediately stopped again. True sorrow must be habitual. Christian, your soul’s disease is chronic and frequently returns. You must therefore continually treat yourself through repentance. This is sorrow “after a godly manner.”

Application: How far from repentance are those who have never experienced any of this godly sorrow!

1. Roman Catholics leave out the very soul of repentance, making all penitential work consist of fasting, penance, and pilgrimages. There is no spiritual sorrow in this. They torture their bodies, but their hearts are not torn. What is this but the corpse of repentance?

2. Worldly Protestants are strangers to godly sorrow. They cannot bear a serious thought and do not want to trouble their minds about sin. Paracelsus speaks of a frenzy that makes some people die dancing. In the same way, sinners spend their lives in merriment: they sing away sorrow and go dancing to damnation. Some have lived many years without putting a single tear into God’s bottle. They do not know what a broken heart means. When their property is gone, they weep and wring their hands as though they were ruined, but they have no agony of soul over sin.

There are two kinds of sorrow. First, rational sorrow is an act of the soul by which it abhors sin and chooses any torture rather than yielding to sin. Second, emotional sorrow expresses itself in abundant tears. The first is found in every child of God, but not all have the second, the sorrow that flows out through the eyes. Yet it is very commendable to see a weeping penitent. Christ counts those with tearful eyes among the greatest beauties.

Sin has good reason to make us weep. We usually weep over losing some great good, and through sin we have lost God’s favor. If Micah wept so much over losing a false god, saying, “Ye have taken away my gods, and what have I more?” (Judg 18:24), surely we may weep over our sins, which have taken the true God away from us.

3. Confession of Sin

The third ingredient in repentance is confession of sin. Sorrow is such a powerful passion that it must find an outlet. It flows through the eyes in weeping and through the tongue in confession. “The children of Israel stood and confessed their sins” (Neh 9:2). “I will go and return to my place, till they acknowledge their sins” (Hos 5:15). This metaphor pictures a mother who, when angry, goes away from her child and hides her face until the child acknowledges the fault and begs forgiveness. Gregory of Nazianzus calls confession “a salve for a wounded soul.”

Confession means accusing ourselves: “Lo, I have sinned” (2 Sam 24:17). Among people, the situation is different. No one is bound to accuse himself; instead, he asks to see his accuser. But when we come before God, we must accuse ourselves.

By accusing ourselves, we forestall Satan’s accusation. In our confessions, we charge ourselves with pride, unbelief, and anger. When Satan, who is called “The Accuser of the Brethren,” brings these charges against us, God will say, “They have already accused themselves. Therefore, Satan, your case is dismissed. Your accusations come too late.”