^^K -....-V '• %M* X l&o Cornell University Law Library The Moak Collection PURCHASED FOR The School of Law of Cornell University And Presented February 14, 1893 . . ;';/ ',-. IN nEllORY OF JUDGE DOUGLASS BOARDMAN FIRST DEAN OF THE SCHOOL By his Wife and Daughter A. M. BOARDMAN and ELLEN D. WILLIAMS Cornell University Library K 160.P26 A series of essays on legal topics, 3 1924 017 877 899 Cornell University Library The original of this book is in the Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924017877899 A SERIES OF ESSAYS ON Legal Topics, BY JAMES PARSONS, ESQ., Professor in the Law Department of the University of Pennsylvania. PHILADELPHIA : REES WELSH, PUBLISHER, N. W. Cor. Sixth and Walnut Sts. 1876. KING it BAIRD, PK INTERS, 607 SANSOM STREET, PHILADELPHIA. Table of Contents. Pago. I. Law as a Science, . . .'• . . . 3 II. Parties to an Action, 29 III. The Statute of Frauds, Section Fourth, "A special PROMISE TO ANSWER FOR THE DEBT, DEFAULT, OR MISCARRIAGE OF ANOTHER," 43 IV. The project of a Digest of the Common Law, either as a preliminary to a code or as a Finality, 73 V. Can a use pe limited upon a use at Common Law? 94 VI. The doctrine of accord and satisfaction, which has superceded the civil law principle of Novation, 109 VII. The History and Growth of Civil Institutions, . 123 Law as a Science.* The student who enters upon a course of legal study, has his mind filled in advance with expectation. He has read perhaps the transcendental definition of law by- Demosthenes, or by Hooker, or by Montesquieu. He is familiar with the lawyers' boast, Pretentions of W. that law is a science made up of all the other sciences, the science of sciences ! The graduate of a university himself, he does not fail to understand the import of the term. The laws of mathematics which underlie the sci- ences and give to them the coherence of definite propor- tion, suggest to him a model. In other sciences, a pre- liminary stage intervenes to obscure the problem. The hunter must first catch his hare before he can eat him ; the investigator must eliminate from the combinations of matter, or circumstance, everything which does not pertain to the essence before he can obtain his elements. The law which governs the elements admits " no variableness, neither shadow of turning," it is fixed and eternal. There is no uncertainty hanging like a cloud over the law ; the obscurity, if it exists, lies in the * The Introductory Lecture delivered at the opening of the Annual Course in the Law Department of the University of Pennsylvania, on October ist, 1875. 4 LAW AS A SCIENCE. analysis of the facts, in the process of catching the hare. Impressed by the assurances of great lawyers with the scientific character of his chosen profession, the student turns to the text-books and prepares himself for a geo- metrical demonstration of the principles which consti- tute law. He looks to find a Euclid of legal deduction. On the threshold, Blackstone advances to meet him. He bows with gravity to the complacent prucT homme and runs an eye over his pictorial history of British in- stitutions as revealed in the records of litigation. As the successive pageants are rolled up in a. scroll at the end of each chapter by an act of Parliament, the reader wonders why he is called upon to admire the middle ages and to sigh over the decay of feudalism, when they are both as dead as Moses. The reason given for the phe- nomenon which excited his astonishment, lets him into the secret of the common law, and explains the mystery. Method of uw. Pre. The decision of a court, like the king, ced^ never die. never dies _ j t eterna ii zes i tse IF as a pre- cedent or statment of the law. Subsequent decisions are in theory bound to coincide with the enunciation, and however they may in fact differ from it, even though it be to the extent of contradiction, they nevertheless do not repeal its authority. They, like it, become precedents in turn ahd all stand together on the common footing of equality. The lawyer, it thus appears, must survey the entire field of legal history, and make his argument square with every case, unless relieved from its binding force by virtue of a statute. He would be more or less than human, if he did not feel grateful to the middle ages, as LAW AS A SCIENCE. 5 he should to any age, which spared him the infliction of more Law Reports, or let him off" with a broken set of Year Books. It is, moreover, tO present the Same Precedents create law. point in a different aspect, the decision of a court which makes the law. This is the salient feature which char- acterizes the Common Law in comparison with the Civil Law, and with other systems of jurisprudence. The in- quiry is then important : What is a deci- What is a precedent ? sion which performs the main function in the legal econ- omy ? In what stage, the preliminary or the ultimate, of the science does it stand ? Is it the statement in its last analysis and in its abstract form of reason ? Is it part of an exact science, a rule-of-three certainty, or an axiom which can be dealt with by logic wherever encountered ? Like the elements of mathematics, is it unaffected by the medium in which it is ex- pressed ? On the contrary, it is, in Lord Bacon's lan- guage, not only "immersed," it is submerged "in mat- ter." It is identified with the case in which it is embodied. At most it is a preliminary _ 1 J F recedent a prehmi- process, the stage through which the ordi- nary process - nary scientist progresses in his search for a general law. The savant however passes in his advance through this stage. If he tarries on the way, it is but to reconsider a theory, to revise his process or to verify his conclusion. His goal is the open plateau of reason where the results of his research can be organized into a system. How is it with Neutral: tion. 6 LAW AS A SCIENCE. the lawyer ? Does he ever get through the chrysalis state and trust himself to his mental wings? His wings would be clipped if he did manage to clear himself, but fortune spares him that ignominy. . _, ,_ . He never does get through, he sticks fast ized by repeti- <-> o ' in the incipient stage. His condition is like sensation, which according to the philosophers, is not a state but a transition from one state to a different state. He is in perpetual transit, but never reaches his destination. It is the fatality of his position. Each deci- sion is a fresh endeavor by the judge to reduce the facts of life to a principle of action, and to contribute this ele- ment to the establishment of a scientific system of law. But the repetition of the process unfortunately presents an independent statement of the law. It is not expressed in identical propositions, and if it were, it would be a work of supererogation. At the peril of its existence, the statement must be original, organic life is its raison d'etre, and as a revised version of the law, it takes away from the previous case its assumed finality, and reduces it to the rank of the mass which must again be taken into account in reaching a sound conclusion. It is a curious anomaly that a decision which is an embodiment of law, and an announcement of its intention, should defeat that intention by the fact of making the announcement. , .. .., The confusion which results from Accumulation without "■ """* intern. case-law, or from converting precedents into the source of law, is the logical consequence LAW AS A SCIENCE. J of the tenet. Each decision in the series, while it neutralizes the effect of its predecessor by the in- trusion of its own unwelcome existence, complicates the solution of the difficulty by adding itself to the indigesta moles. The process of accumulation, without the design or without the chance to utilize the material, and to organize a system founded upon principle, is an illustration of the Anglo-Saxon's mania to amass facts, as a miser does money, not for the sake of use, but for the pleasure of hoarding. The argumentation which is kept up, „ , ...... o r r' False method vitiatci on the delusive theory that the law reason- is gradually developing itself into a science, in spite of the inherent vice of the process, a vice which dooms the lawyer to stand back from the portals of science, produces in the end a perversion of the reason. Consider the situation. A precedent is established, which turns out upon investigation to be founded upon a mistake of judgment. It is not the office of a judge to expose the error and unsettle the law ; his duty is to hide the fault from detection, and to argue from it as if it were truth. He often follows it under protest. The true basis of reasoning is lost sight of; it is not a rule to explain a congeries of blunders ; it is a principle which satisfies the reason. No science can exist if it ad- mits any tenet that does not represent the product of the best thought in the ranks of its adherents. It may not be the final analysis, and the moment it ceases to be the generalization which covers and explains the facts, it 8 LAW AS A SCIENCE. will be demolished by criticism and go by the board. There is no second-rate reason on which science can be built. The moment thought can detect a flaw in the reasoning, it ceases to command the mind's assent, and is no longer reason. Common lawyers admit, though apparently without being aware of the extent of their ad- mission, that first-class reason is no less a requisite of law, than it is of an exact science. The maxim in which they delight is, that " law is the perfection of reason." Affects character. The character of a lawyer is affected by his habit of mind. He is said to argue equally well from any premiss. The establishment of precedents makes this a necessity of his vocation. He must take any given precedent as his starting point, and assuming the correctness of his standard, prove his case by an- alogy to it. This is the training which makes a com- mon lawyer. The habit is acquired of reasoning with- out any belief in the- principles, which he employs as weapons, but his faith is in the syllogism. The result is an artificial mind. Mental integrity is maintained only by conviction. The lawyer has come to be, not only on the stage, but in real life, the emblem of hollowness and insincerity. He does not believe, the public cries, a word of what he says. The goodness or badness of a cause is indifferent to him ; hence his capacity to argue on either side of a question with equal ability. He answers, too, as he argues not from con- viction. Called upon, as he often is, to reconcile a contradiction or explain an inconsistency on the spur LAW AS A SCIENCE. g of the moment, or lose his case, he cannot halt for a reply. He beats about and hits upon a suggestion, which seems at the moment adequate; he advances it with assurance, if not with triumph, though a little re- flection would expose its unsoundness. How does the lay mind regard a reply which is makeshift, or a stop- gap for an answer ? The insincerity is heightened by the impressive earnestness of a lawyer's bearing. Ad- dressing a court which is critical, or a jury which dis- trusts him, he disarms them by an air of honesty and frankness, and reassures them by his manner. But the penalty which he pays for forcing his nature is that his impressiveness becomes a mannerism. Used not less when he is indifferent than when he is animated by pro- found conviction, his parade of earnestness fails of its effect. It is a common remark, the trait has become so fixed, that a lawyer can be picked out in a crowd of disputants by the intensity of his manner and gesticula- tion. As with some women the conventional phrases are uttered with the gravity of salvation truths. What is the remedy suggested to put the law upon a scientific basis ? The world resounds with Remedy imperative. the cry of law reform, and no lawyer, if he stops to think about the future, hesitates to acknowledge the ne- cessity for action. Something must be done to save society from a second flood, though the catastrophe this time is a legal deluge. The panacea which is urged by enthusiasts is a code. But AnalogywithEuropeau the existence of codes in Europe is codes deceptive - I O LAW AS A SCIENCE. not a reason for their introduction into this coun- try. The cause which makes them prolific in creat- ing mischief in the legal economy here does not hold there. The courts in Europe have no power to settle or unsettle the construction of a statute. The decision of a court stands like the verdict of a jury, it binds the parties, but it does not affect the law itself. That remains as it is written, with no glosses which must be worked into its text and made a part of its framework. The naked letter of the law stares the judge in the face. He has no bulwark of precedents to stand between him and the stark mandate of au- thority. There is no cover under which he can under- mine the statute and make it the play-ground of his legal fancy. The slavery of obedience is his hard fate. If it were pertinent to the question in hand, it would not be difficult to show that a code, even on the continent of Europe, is a cause as well as a symptom of decadence. Arbitrary power is not incapable of stifling thought, let it but enforce its enactment. The French codes have extirpated the race of jurists who once made France illustrious. Great advocates like Berryer may arise to move the passions of an audience, but the profound thinkers, who, like Pothier, created the law, no longer frequent the Palace of Justice. Austin, it is true, advocated a code, and he was a Austin overlooked profound thinker and jurist. But it growth as the life of law. may be questioned whether he gave as much thought to the ultimate growth of law, to its LAW AS A SCIENCE. 1 1 development as a science, as he did to the logical symmetry of its structure. He had a generalizing, an organizing intellect, developed by scholastic train- ing, and he felt the necessity of subjecting the mass of English precedents to a reorganization, which would give to the different parts the interdependence and to the whole the unity of a system. This was to him a matter of paramount importance. The mobility of a cast-iron frame of law, suited to the shifting quicksand of human institutions, he left as a puzzle for the next generation to work out. His conception of law was perfect, but his plan of petrifying it was unworthy of his greatness. He kills the goose that lays the golden egg. The grand result which he labored to accomplish can be attained by the simple agency of thought, if it is but left free. The arbitrary intervention of government does not facilitate, it frustrates the attainment of its object. In this view the best antidote to his argument for a code is his essay on interpretation. His apprehension lest the judges should serve his code as they would an ordinary statute, sharpened the keenness of his insight, and led him to point out the difference between the function of a judge as a law-maker, and his function as an interpreter of statute law. The motive which controlled him, it is apparent was to escape the chaos of precedents, and a code was, it cannot be doubted, less his choice than his only refuge. Solicitude for his work made him dread to see it not only mangled by inferior hands, but buried by them in a slough of obscurity. The judge as a law- 12 LAW AS A SCIENCE. maker, he proceeds to point out, is a reasoner, but as an interpreter of statute law, he is simply a grammarian, who is denied the privilege of discussing the reason of the legislator, and is bound down by the weight of his words. The meaning of the law-maker's language is the boundary which limits the range of his mental vision. No argument can be drawn from the effect of an enactment to control its meaning. The words must have their significance in spite of any absurdity. His standard of inter- This might be an ideal method of con- pretation for ideal workmanship. struing statutes, if they were draughted by prophets who could foretell the complications which might happen in human affairs, and who were at the same time linguists, with a command of language which enabled them to express, without a shade of ambiguity, the sense of the law-giver. Unfortunately for this theory of hermeneutics the legislator is not omniscient, nor does the future unfold itself to him as if it were , t past. Even if it did, language is but Language an imperfect * ' o o medium. an j m perfect medium, an approxima- tion, full of ellipses, metaphors and idioms, which suggests rather than states a meaning, and necessarily gives rise to a contrariety of interpretation. Take the accurate thinkers, men who devote their lives to the study of definiteness in thought, do they succeed in attaining precision ? The converse is true, the development of thought in philosophy, metaphysics, political economy and the sciences, is in part a groping through the obscurity of language. Each succeeding school detects a confusion of thought LAW AS A SCIENCE. *3 in the use of a word in a double sense, and rectifies the mistakes into which its predecessors were led by the misuse of language. This defect is not less obvious in law. So far from being exempt, lawyers as a class are given to the mental frailty which snares them in words. They seldom rise like Bacon to the greatness which ranks them in equality with the leading thinkers of the world, and though individuals should attain that, eleva- tion, the profession as a body would remain, if only by striking an average, on a level with ordinary men. If great minds are unable to eradicate a fault inherent in language in spite of their greatness, can feebler minds hope to emancipate themselves by reason of their weak- ness ? If left to itself the evil works But evii cures itself if . 111 language not made a its own cure, but a code arrests the vehicle for emptiness. process of self-improvement, which in other depart- ments of knowledge removes by degrees the errors arising from the defect of language. A corrective is taken away which is required when language is used with a maximum of exactness. At the same time lan- guage is expanded by the vagueness of phraseology in order to make it comprehend the future as a drag-net. When words cease to be the integument of thought, they become a senseless jargon. Austin did not overlook the transcendent difficulty of framing a code. His standard for a codi- standard for a corner. fier shows his appreciation of the task. He could be satisfied, as a matter of course, with no man who did not possess the philosophic profundity and abstract grasp 14 LAW AS A SCIENCE. which distinguished him. He distrusted any one who did not combine with his rare power of mind, not only the knowledge of law acquired by a Coke or an Eldon, but also the intuitive character of that knowledge. He must be made sure that the resources of the law would be adequately exhausted. The type is not to be obtained as an official. If a commission had been appointed to codify the laws of astronomy, as well might Galileo unattainable except by be expected to get the appointment. natural selection and . . ... division of labor. Such a genius might arise in the process of natural selection, though even in that prolific ter- ritory he would be a prodigy. The men who figured as codifiers and projected a civil code for Pennsylvania, and inflicted the code of procedure upon New York, have passed in the profession, Heaven save the mark ! neither for Austins nor for Eldons. The reduction of the common law precedents to a system of principles will, it is more probable, be the work of individual thinkers scattered throughout England and America. When law sees fit to introduce the method of science, the creative intellects which are able to organize the hier- archy of order, whether in the bustle of practice or in the retirement of seclusion, will co-operate to conquer the new world which is opened to their ambition. What has been said refers to a code under the most favorable circumstances, where the doctrine of prece- Fmiiity of codes if dents does not prevail. If they intervene superseded by pre- , # cedents. to obstruct its operation, it would be better for that code that a mill-stone should be hung LAW AS A SCIENCE. 1 5 about its neck, and that it should be cast „ L . . , IT , , ' Constitution of United into the sea. Take the Constitution of States - the United States, which will not be an exceptional illustration if the international codes advocated by a few should come into vogue. Of all codes it is, per- haps, the simplest in its phraseology and most compre- hensive in its extent. Is there a point which has not or may not in consequence of over-statement by pre- cedents be raised for discussion under its provisions ? The theory of its construction is a mooted question. Is it a treaty by the States, a social compact or an organic law by the people ? The Constitution was a limitation on legislation. But if the government might refuse to organize courts to en- force the restriction, or repeal the judiciary act, what re- dress remains for the violation ? Or if a party in power should pack the Supreme Court in order to legalize its breach of obligation, what remedy would be given to the sufferers ? Is it conceivable that the rights guaranteed by the Constitution vanish because usurped ? The con- sequence proves that the Supreme Court was only intended to adjudicate private cases, and not to settle constitutional law. That requires the consensus of the leading minds as in all science. When they agree upon a subject, it is established by their accord, and while they fail to agree, it remains subject to investigation and open to conference. If this plan were not contemplated, why should the concurrence of three-fourths of the States be required to alter the Constitution ? It might be subver- 1 6 LAW AS A SCIENCE. ted at any time by a party representing a bare major- ity or even a minority. A government of delegated powers might abolish the reserved rights. The court which is interposed as the safeguard to prevent encroach- ment and maintain the reserved rights, is the creature of the power whose limits it is called upon to define. The framers of the Constitution could not be guilty of setting up a court of straw to defend rights which they regarded as paramount. The requirement of the co-operation of three-fourths of the States, for an amendment to the Con- stitution, points out the method allowed for an altera- tion. The evasion of this restriction by the indirection of a subordinate, dislocates the framework of the Con- stitutional edifice. The code, let it try the experiment, begins a new page ; cases multiply under its provisions ; different theories of construction obtain as to its scope, and the courts, set to reduce its parts to a coherent system, break up its foundations as if it were a decedent's last will and testament. Then the decisions under the code are codified. The attempt to embody the Ur swamped by prece- * J dents- adjudications under the New York code of procedure in an enlarged code, has expanded the text into a huge volume which contains as much in bulk as the five codes of Napoleon, though they are not confined to practice, but embrace the entire corpus of law. The new mass of statute magnified by endless detail, is pre- sented to the mind for digestion, though that function is always by the vice of its process arrested midway, and LAW AS A SCIENCE. I J aggravates the evil it was designed to overcome. Let this ratio of increase go on and a code will become a gigantic network of provisions in which the mind will enter only to be crucified. An illustra- „ , „, . ... J Bankrupt law, striking tion, which deserves attention on account illustration - of the ability of the lawyers who framed it, is the Bankrupt Law. As a code, it was intended to em- body the English legislation and decisions. Already, within a decade, the decisions rival in bulk the English cases, and before a judicial basis of con- struction is formed upon which an intelligent profes- sional- opinion can rest with security, the bankrupt precedents will exceed in extent and variety the cases in the departments of jurisprudence which are venerable with antiquity. This experiment which is brought home to the profession throughout the country, ought to be sufficient to stay the hand of the iconoclast. It shows, though the fact did not require an ocular demon- stration to prove it, that a code which professes to retain the substance while it changes the form of existing law, does in truth destroy the accumulations of knowledge. A fresh start is made in the judicial career of precedents as if the centuries spent in acquiring and amassing infor- mation for future use had never existed. The work must all be done over anew, until the building up re-, stores the work of devastation. A slight variation even in the form vitiates an amount of law out of all propor- tion to the extent of the change, because the element in- troduced is arbitrary, and necessitates a revision of the whole in conformity with its imperative terms. This 1 8 LAW AS A SCIENCE. besom of destruction is not reform, it is revolution. The continuity of legal existence is broken, and man is forced back to his starting point in civilization. If mankind could begin its life over again, while retaining the benefits of its former experience, as many a man has wished to try, the second life should be at least an improvement, but a code destroys the work of mankind during its epoch of life, and at the same time makes it commit, in its second period of existence, the very errors which brought about its original perdition. what is the remedy ? If a code is a legal barbarism, and no remedy is suggested by the ' advanced ' thinkers, what is the profession to do ? Perhaps the retro- grade thinkers can help them out of their straits. The secret of reform is to preserve the advantages of past acquisitions, and by a slight modification to convert existing institutions into agencies for pro- gress. The part added, though a trifle in comparison with the mass which it impregnates, is often sufficient to change the course of events, and to shape a nation's des- tiny. How is reform to accomplish this mission in law ? The simplest means seem to have escaped the wisdom of the reformers. They overlooked a remedy which was not congenial to their taste. In search of a short cut to knowledge, they were not attracted by a method which involved no less sustained thought and „,..,,. .v profound erudition, than does the mas- Method of science the r ' "° remedy. terv f t h e common ] aW- The method LAW AS A SCIENCE. 19 of science was both too hard and too slow. It is nevertheless the only method which leads to per- manent success. This statement, however hazard- ous it might have been at other epochs in the world's history, carries its proof with it in the present age, which owes its pre-eminence to science. Take away the authority of precedent and let the mind grapple with law, as it does with other sciences. Who, familiar with the achievements of the human intellect, can doubt the result ? Here and there a petty spirit trembles at the suggestion to lay the foundations of property upon the fluctuating judgment of men. He would serve the reason as the Lilliputians did Gulliver, and tie it down to the ground by each hair of its sub- stance. If his object were to disarm the mind, to arrest its action, the device is as effectual as it was ingenious, but the design is not to deaden the reason, but to con- trol it, and behold the result ! Each movement of the mind snaps some of the withes, and away goes property in the breach. The security afforded by „ . . , j j constitutional straight- barricading the mind, is like the constitu- jacket - tional method of securing integrity in politicians. A rogue is placed in office, and then restraints are put upon him at every turn. He is boxed in and can do, it is fancied, next to nothing. He succeeds nevertheless in his career of fraud and corruption in spite of the barri- cade. No constitutional straight-jacket can convert a thief into an honest man. Character is the only safe- guard, and that needs no artificial restraints, it is a law unto itself. 20 LAW AS A SCIENCE. The world has outgrown the notion that human reason is a dangerous explosive, which must be hemmed v in and barricaded on all sides. Reason Human reason the mainstay. j s tne u l t i ma te basis upon which every- thing reposes. As it is destined to establish its ascendency in the end, despite of every obstacle, why not let it have its way in the beginning? The danger lies in obstructing its course, while safety makes reason its reliance. The complexity, the over-refinement, the subtlety and the artificialness of the law arise from precedents which necessitate distinctions, if not without a difference, at least without the healthy solidity of common sense. The cause of hair-splitting, a lawyer's proverbial occu- pation, is the attempt to reconcile a case with a class of cases which ought not to stand and block the path to a sound judgment, but which the court, as it is com- pelled to recognize it, must explain away as best it can. The pretended distinction is a sham reason invented to get rid of a blunder. How could the reasoning be any- thing but an artifice? What would be thought of an astronomer who contended that some of the planets should be governed by the Ptolemaic system, while others should be controlled by the attraction of gravity ? common law hierarchy. Turn, for the sake of understanding the theory, to the history of the common law. How did it fall into the error of binding itself for the future by a slip in the present ? It was mislead by the most natural of illusions. The organization of the Bar and the LAW AS A SCIENCE. 21 Bench, insured the ascendency of the mental leaders who took rank in the hierarchy, according to the measure of their capacity and erudition. A close corporation, limited to a single city, the members could not fail to know and gauge each other to a nicety. The Lord Chancellor was the recognized head, and he followed in his selection of judges the professional opinion of his caste. For centuries there were but fifteen justices, and every facility was afforded for reviewing a decision which might seem untenable. Besides the regular stages of appeal, the entire body of judges might be called in on occasions of embarrassment to deliberate with the appel- late courts. Is it a wonder that with this arrangement the possibility of error seemed excluded ? Who could doubt that all the talent and originality in the profession, if not monopolized by the Bench, would be appropriated by it in its final judgment ? It is in fact owing to this perfection of machinery, which incorporated natural selection, that the common law has developed in spite of its radical vice and has not broken down utterly, until it ceased to utilize the entire intellect of the Bar. In the United States, it is needless to remark, the semblance of the English Bar organization, with its control of the judiciary never existed. The American No semblance of En g - " lish arrangement in Bar, scattered over the territory of a State America. or of the Union has no coherence, much less any cor- porate action. The judiciary so far from being its creature, is created by political or popular agencies, which are foreign to the Bar. The Bench, though it contains in its ranks lawyers who represent the culmi- 22 LAW AS A SCIENCE. nation of the profession, is not made up in the ag- gregate of the great minds which lead the Bar. In Pennsylvania, neither the greater Tilghman, Rawle, Binney, Sergeant, nor Meredith, was ever upon the Bench. One or two original There are but two or three master-minds geniuses in a gene- t , ration create science, in a generation. In science these rare spirits not only acquire the ascendency which their genius warrants, but they are welcomed by the plaudits of their fellows and are enthroned on the seat of empire. Eng- and made a near approach to this ideal in its House of Lords. The two or three profound and original minds of the period, 'all England's' chosen few, sat in council and heard on appeal the isolated cases which the intermediate courts found themselves unable to put upon the ultimate basis of reason. Next to the mental prowess and attainments of such men as Lord Wensley- dale, Lord Westbury and Lord St. Leonards, was the deliberation which characterized their proceedings. No haste precipitated their action. Time is an element which gives maturity to thought as well as ripeness to fruit. The mind must brood over and become saturated with an idea before it can make it a part of itself, and Not com rehended b stam P it with its own creative impress. Pubhc ' The process of reflection, alas, was not appreciated by the public. A popular hue and cry was raised against the tribunal, which contributed more than any one thing to redeem the common law. It did not sit day in and day out, nor grind out a maximum LAW AS A SCIENCE. 2 3 of decisions per diem. The quality of the mental work- manship was no answer to the clamor. The demand of the present day is quantity, which can diffuse itself broadcast over the country and reach every individual. The poor man, it was Judge Burnside's boast, should have his law in Pennsylvania as well as the rich. As if law meant litigation ! The better the law the less need there is for litigation. The poor man would require redress less frequently, because there would be fewer pretexts for encroachment. The popular will has car- ried its point in America. ' The Supreme . . . . x r A judge becomes a Courts of the main States at least sit as drud « e - long as is compatible with human endurance and with human life. The judges dispatch an average of several cases a day during the working months of the year. The intervals between sittings are employed in writing opinions. The volume of composition independent of its texture must equal the amount produced by the editor of a daily newspaper, or of a clergyman in a city parish. With never ending toil, a lawyer, though an encyclo- pedia of reference, with a preternatural activity of mind and a knack of putting his thoughts on paper, scarcely gets through his allotted share of the task. He never does his work to his own satisfaction. An eminent jurist remarked in conversation to the speaker : " The profession should be lenient in its His exculpation. "judgment upon the decisions of a court constituted "like the Supreme Court of Pennsylvania. A judge " has no time, in the pressure upon him, to enter with " profound research into a study of the principles in- 24 LAW AS A SCIENCE. "volved in a case. However interested he might be in " the investigation, and anxious to delve to the bottom, " he must renounce the temptation. All that he can do " is to give the best opinion which occurs to him at the " time without protracted reflection, and hurry on to the " next case which demands his attention." The excuse is ample for the judge and exonerates him from all blame; , ,. but what is the logic of his position ? A capitulation of the o i common law posMon. j s j t no( . a ca pitulation ? An investi- gator maintains an explanation, although in the same breath he condemns it as inadequate, and apologises for it on personal grounds. This is a burlesque, a mockery of science. Science is impersonal. It does not concern itself with the exponent or with his misfortunes. Its inexorable law is that the theory established to compre- hend and exhaust the facts shall not be the guess-work of conjecture, but the certainty of demonstration. The Bench admits that it lacks the power, although it has the inclination to undertake the vast scheme of convert- imposing whole task ing law into a science. It was the origin of on judges the origin ... . . I of evii. evil to impose upon the judges single- handed a task which taxes the combined resources of the profession. No coterie of magistrates can, however adroit may be its management, possess itself of all the intellect at the Bar. Genius is not to be anticipated nor monopolized. The greatest discoveries are unexpected and the source is not even surmised in advance. It is the closet of the thinker where the mind can concen- trate itself upon a problem, and not be called off for other duty until the solution is found, that promises LAW AS A SCIENCE. 25 greater results than can be expected from the rattling turn of a judicial treadmill. An instance of the way the material „, . , . .. ' Illustration ofscientin of the law can be handled by a mind method - which is not to be satisfied by the fetches of ingenuity, but must find its equipose in the sound element of sense, will serve at the same time to add point to the superiority of the scientific method for the development of law over the iconoclasm of a code. To the Hon. R. P. Spalding is credited, in connection with an emi- nent patent lawyer, the paternity of the bankrupt law, upon which comment has been made. He wasted his intellect, it is clear, in trying to simplify the law by means of a code. Now refer to an argument which he made in the course of his practice upon the subject of general average,* and witness how the same mental power, when guided by the method of science, can be exerted to simplify the law with effect. If precedents ceased from this moment to affect the principle, it would stand as a finality, and be a luminous exposition of the doc- trine known as general average. This is the mode in which investigation, if left unobstructed, will, step by step, clear the law of its intricacy, artificiality and con- fusion. The organizing minds, like Austin's, will find room for the exercise of their genius. The outline of the system will be framed without difficulty at the be- ginning and the main principles adopted without dissent. * It is reported in a note to 115 English Common Law Reports, 583. 26 LAW AS A SCIENCE. The work has already been done to hand by precursors of the science. Discussion and controversy will un- doubtedly follow upon different parts of the science, but a consensus of the trained minds of the profession will ultimately be reached upon the basis of sound judg- ment. This is the course of development in every science, and the law will prove no exception to the rule. There will be no impediment to the logic of reason. The lawyer, who from dealing with a patchwork of law, has acquired the habit of thinking in fragments, will rise to the level of generic thought. He will stand on a par with thinkers in other departments of knowledge, and employ, not a dialect, but the vernacular tongue of reasoning. The conventional barrier of precedent, which cripples thought, being broken down, the great minds of the profession will re-assert their natural ascendency, and lead in its advance the Bar, which will acknowledge with relief and with gratitude the supremacy of genius. ... . , . The objection which will be raised to the Objection answered ad J hommem. introduction of the scientific method, can be anticipated and met with a decisive answer before it is uttered. The plan, it will be said, is an experiment, and however satisfactory it may be in natural science, it is impracticable in a moral science, for the reason that men never come to an agreement upon moral principles. The arguments ad hominem, in answer, would be that the theory of precedents is based not less upon the con currence of mind, which it declares impossible. The LAW AS A SCIENCE. 2 7 fallacy in which it intrenches itself is the old subterfuge of paternal government and of the church, which pro- nounce individual reason insufficient to provide for man's welfare, and upon that pretence, erect in its stead, corporate reason as his only refuge and safety. When tested by its merit the spuriousness of the system is obvious. Sophistry and casuistry are the fruits of arbi- trary interference with human reason. The law of pre- cedents is an example not less startling of the same cause, bringing about a like perversion of the reason. In fact the arbitrary net-work of dixits creates the con- trariety of opinion which it stakes its existence to re- move. The effecting of unity in professional thought, it will be recalled, was not only the cause, but is the sole justification of the intervention. The advocates of case-law cannot even appeal to experiment. Their pet theory has been tried and found wanting. It would be difficult at the present day to suggest a point of law upon which lawyers of equal weight might not differ, or upon which the court might not divide in opinion with equal show of authority. The fact is so mortifying that dissent has become a reproach, and silence prevails in the place of unanimity. The end and object of law is justice, . J -J ' Law made exponent 01 which, strange as it may seem, is appre- justice- hended by the unaided intellect of the layman. The science of morals is not a mystery; it is simple in its elements, and can be reduced to a summary, which might serve as a guide, although no instinct made it second 28 LAW AS A SCIENCE. nature. Let law seek to embody the principles of morality, and it will become simplified in its character, and intelligible to human beings, lay and clerical; nor will it serve the less to meet the requirements of justice in complex than in simple affairs. The perplexity, which puts a judge on his mettle, is never in finding out the merits of a case, that is an open secret, but it is in making technical rules give effect to the merits. This is accomplished too often by forcing the law; a common lawyer will give the cases a new twist never dreamt of before, while the Chancellor will treat the decisions of the courts as a dissolving view to obtain his end and to make the law speak justice. Both admit by their practice, the one in driving, as was said by Lord Thurlow, in reference to an Act of Parliament, with his coach and six, through, and the other over the body, of law, that they might as easily do by means of a system of law what they now do in spite of it. Remedy not an e.peri- The proposed reform of the law, it is merit but the only sue- .' r * ,\ 11 i U!* — cess. The vital prin- gratifying to reassure the would-be objec- ciple of Roman law. • * • j_ ' .„ tors is not an experiment, nor is it im- practicable. Far from being a novelty, it has existed more than twenty centuries, and has been the distinctive method of the greatest system of law which has flour- ished in the world. At the present day it prevails over the continent of Europe and among the most civilized nations of Christendom. It is the vital principle of the Civil or Roman law, and can be applied to and utilize the repository of the common law, as well as the Pan- dects of Justinian. Parties to an Action* Could it be established as a fact that book-making has superseded authorship, at all events in law books, it would nevertheless be a satisfaction to meet with a book which is at least well made. „ , ,. Book-making and au- But the remark is an aspersion ; there are thorsh 'P- writers of the present day who may claim the title of authors, and rank with the best of former times. Who, for instance, would venture to dispute the pre-eminent qualities of Hayes as an author ? Does he lack the com- prehensiveness of grasp which enables a writer to take in the outlines of his domain at a single view ? Does the development of his subject betray a want of logical symmetry and coherence ? Is the skill and subtlety of a trained mind absent in the handling of a recondite dogma ? No one would deny that these traits were brought into play in the design, and presided over the execution of his works. Nor does the detail fall short of the plan. There is a lucidity of presentation, a de- gree of accuracy and finish, as well as a felicity of state- * A Review, published in the London Law Magazine and Law Review, the Part for May, 1871, of "A Treatise on the Rules for the Selection of the Parties to an Action. By A. V. Dicey, of Inner Temple, Barrister-at-Law, and Fellow of Trinity College, Oxford, London : William Maxwell & Son, 29 Fleet Street, 1870.'' 30 PARTIES TO AN ACTION. ment, which is not equalled by any other law writer, not even by Sir William Jones. The style is a triumph of simplification in the thickest jungle of the law, and stimulates the reader by the intellectual vigor which pervades it. Next to Hayes stands Wigram. His treatise on extrinsic evidence fascinates the reader by the luminous distinctness of the thought which it crystallizes. Others there are too, like Lord St. Leonards, whom every one recognizes as creative minds. Mr. Dicey 's work is essentially a book of practice, and the subject does not admit of the same degree of originality as might be displayed in the less formal parts _ , . . , of the law. It is therefore a surprise, as Freshness in technical -T ' law - well as a pleasure, to find how much freshness of thought he has brought to bear upon a topic, apparently so artificial as the parties to an action. Unlike many other writers, he does not re-echo the say- ings of a judge, and make the columns of his book resound with platitudes which should have died in their birth, and not lived to haunt succeeding ages. He states the law at times in the language of the courts when it is apt, but he also presents the principle in his own language, and frequently according to the different aspects in which it might strike the mind. This variety of presentation gives the reader a grasp of the principle in the extent of its application, which he would not otherwise have been enabled to realize; and this is an indication of the sug- gestiveness of the author. It discloses a mind trained in the handling of general principles — an education which PARTIES TO AN ACTION. 3 1 unfortunately does not always precede a professional career. As an illustration of the method employed to vary the statement of a principle, take the case of a set off in an action either by the husband and wife or by the husband alone. After mentioning the illustrations. instances in which set off is allowed or refused, Mr. Dicey proceeds : — " To put the same thing into a different form, when " a husband sues in his own name, the action is treated as " one brought by him, and against his claims in such an " action debts cannot be set off which are due, not from " him but from his wife When, on the other hand, the " action is brought by the husband and wife, it is con- " sidered as one brought by her, though the husband's " name must be joined for the sake of conformity, and " therefore debts due from her can, and debts due from " him cannot, be set off."* This paragraph embodies in a different version the principle that set-off avails against the party whose inter- est or right is involved in the particular action. The rule that a seal imports a consideration, although stated, is at the same time expressed in novel terms, which arrest the attention, and impress the significance of the rule upon the memory; it is thus turned — "A covenant is good without the existence of any consideration to induce the covenantor to enter into the covenant."f Mr. Dicey discloses his faculty for general reasoning in the neat discrimination which he makes in a subject * Page 185. t Page 101. 32 PARTIES TO AN ACTION. which has been confused by the common lawyers. He , , apprehends and explains the difference be- Not mislead by tradi- * * *■ tionai confusion. tween a tacit and an implied or quasi con- tract. The manner in which he treats the distinction in- dicates that he is familiar with Austin, who detected the ambiguity involved in the phrases, and severed it with a blow of his sledge-hammer-mind forever* There are traces in the book of familiarity with other authors who are not quoted. The subject of pos- session is handled with remarkable precision, and the delineation implies an acquaintance on the part, either of the judges who observed the distinctions, or of Mr. Dicey, who has stated them, with Savigny's Recht des Besitzes.")* Mr. Dicey's method of developing a special subject is simple, and, if made in subordination to the leading principle, according to which the exceptions as well as the general rule are determined, is calculated to furnish a knowledge of the extent of the rule in application, which is the grand object of attainment. It is the acquaintance with the precise limit of a rule, and an ap- prehension of the shadow-lines of demarcation which pre- vent its application, that distinguishes the trained lawyer The author's method, from the layman or unpractised thinker. It is easy to illustrate the manner in which the information is conveyed to the reader. Thus the rule is stated that * 3 Austin's Jurisprudence, 221-4, 133, 136. ' t P a g es 333-7, 33^ n. (n), 358 n. (c). PARTIES TO AN ACTION. 33 the principal must sue on a contract made by an agent on his behalf, and examples are set forth which show how the rule is applied and how it works in practice. Then the exceptions are stated and exemplified in like manner, and in explanation, though not with the dis- tinctness and emphasis to which, by its importance, it is entitled, the principle which justifies the exceptions as a class is enunciated. The agent in all the enumer- ated instances had been dealt with as a party to the contract. The reason which empowers the principal alone to sue, because the agent was a mere instru- mentality to effect a purpose conceived by the principal, ceases to operate; the agent himself becomes a party to the contract, and is naturally invested with the rights and duties of a contracting party. This illustration shows that the principle which dictated the rule applies to the exceptions as well. The contract is not exclu- sively for the principal, it is also for the agent, who becomes pro tanto a principal. The exceptions in strict language are said to prove the rule. Another illustra- tion will perhaps bring out the connection between the exceptions and the rule still more significantly. Thus the rule is that in a suit upon a joint contract all the co- contractors must be joined. The exceptions include bankrupts, debtors protected by the Statutes of Limita- tion or domiciled without the jurisdiction, common carriers where the action is severed by Statute, nominal or dormant partners, and infants or married women. " In the first five cases the plaintiff may join the " persons whom he is not compelled to join as defend- 34 PARTIES TO AN A CI ION. " ants, and the only harm he can suffer is, that in some " of these cases, e.g., where the defendant joined is bank- " rupt, or is protected by the Statutes of Limitation, " he will fail in his action as against such defendant. " In the sixth case the plaintiff must not join the per- " son, sc, the infant or married woman whom he cannot " be compelled to join as a defendant, for the joinder " of such infant, or married woman, will, if properly " pleaded, make the action fail, not only against such " person, but also as against all the defendants."* The reason for joinder is removed, because the liability of the party on the contract is taken away, and he has ceased to be a co-debtor. In the last instance, the infant or married woman never was a co-contractor. A disability to contract is an incident of their condi- tion, and, although they might go through the form of making a contract, the law would not recognize it as binding. It is obvious, therefore, that the rule and exceptions rest upon an identical principle. It is the liability on the contract which is the test of joinder; the rule assumes such liability from the fact of the con- tract, and the exceptions explain the cases where no actual though an apparent liability exists. It is not meat by these remarks to question the pro- priety of laying down rules, and subsequently pointing out the exceptions. The method has been tested by experience, and found to be an available means of in- * Page 233, note (t). PARTIES 10 AN ACTION. 35 struction. The objection is that a some- A m]t is a ste pping what artificial and formal mode of tuition "° t ne a tubLuuTe^or is employed as a self-subsistent course, instead of as merely an aid to bring out into prominence the principle which governs both rule and exceptions. Some assistance is required by the mind in order to enable it to grasp and hold an abstract proposition, and it should be the object of any method to supply this requisite. Let the Germans indulge in abstractions which they are pleased to consider profound ; the rest of mankind assuredly thinks they have mistaken obscurity for depth, unless it be that they can dive deeper and come up dryer than any other mortals. A generality by it- self conveys no meaning to the mind, it must be con- verted into actuality and illustrated by examples before it is apprehended. An amusing incident occurred to the writer which convinced him of the unmeaningness of a ' glittering generality.' He was, during the past winter, out on one occasion skating, and he was at- tracted by a friend who was devoting his mind and body to cutting an intricate figure on ice, and thinking it would be interesting to understand the movements involved in the process, he asked his friend to do the feat again, and do it slowly, so that he could follow the movements in detail. His friend, however, proud of his achievement, replied in a grand and triumph- ant manner, " It is merely a question of the centre of gravity, my dear fellow, the attraction of gravity," and round he whirled. With a dim idea of how to apply that valuable discovery of Newton to a complicated 36 PARTIES TO AN ACTION. evolution on skates, the writer turned away and tried figures with which he had become familiar without any such luminously profound explanation. He was sol- aced shortly afterwards at the sight of his philosophical friend flat on his back, and it occurred to him that per- haps the attraction of gravity would also account for that phenomenon. This digression, if it be one, shows that a general proposition must be interpreted to the mind by the help of intermediate propositions, which serve as steps to enable the understanding to mount up to the general theory, and view it abstractedly. It seems to be the fault of Mr. Dicey that in the pursuit of details he has lost sight of the object for which his rules and exceptions are designed. They are useful, if not necessary, supports for the principle which rests upon them, but to erect piers without any bridge to span the intervening space would hardly be ac- knowledged as good architecture. Nor is this defect con- fined to the separate subjects in the treatise ; it is, on the contrary, the radical vice of the book as a whole. The first impression of the reader is that the work is frag- mentary. There is no comprehensive outline which stamps itself upon the mental retina, and thereby enables the mind to group the various fragments together, and retain them in the memory. With such an accumula- tion of cases the demand for a sketch of the plan upon which they are classified becomes imperative, and unless it is furnished the book loses its character of a treatise, and descends to the rank of a digest, which is not de- PARTIES TO AN ACTION. 37 signed to be read, but merely to be consulted on the occasion of doubt. The arrangement, or Ru i esut a use may be exe- and a use upon a use, perplexed Mr. cutedj subj( . ct to x Sanders, who put the two following cases po ™ as similar : A conveyance to and to the use of A, and his heirs, to the use of B, and his heirs, and a convey- ance to and to the use of A, and his heirs, subject to a 106 A USE UPON A USE. power of appointment reserved to B. Lord St. Leon- ards thus neatly clears up the distinction : " In the " first case the use being vested in A, to the use of B, " is a use upon a use, and therefore void : in the last " case, A takes a seizin and a use, but the use is subject " to the power, and is during the existence of the power " executed sub modo only ; that is, subject to open and " let in the estate created under the power. When the " power is executed the use takes effect as if properly " limited in the deed creating the power ; and therefore, " the use arises out of the original seizin of A, and de- " feats instead of deriving its essence from the use lim- " ited to A." This is the point decided by Moreton v. Lees.* It is but just, however, to acknowledge that Mr. Sanders' perplexity arose from the statement made by Lord Coke, that " in case of a feoffment or other " conveyance whereby the feoffee or grantee, &c, is in " by the common law, such a proviso (/'. e., a power of " revocation) were merely repugnant and void." The antithesis here, however, is evidently between uses and legal estates ; for Lord Coke says, " this proviso being " coupled with an use, is allowed to be good, and not re- " pugnant to the former estates." A legal estate in fee being once vested, cannot be defeated by a power of revoca- tion, though such power were reserved at the time of the creation of the estate, the power being repugnant to the nature of the estate. In this respect a legal estate differs from a use, to which a power of revocation may be an- nexed without being deemed inconsistent with the pre- * C. P. Lancaster, March Ass. 1819. A USE UPON A USE. \oj vious limitations which vest, subject to the liability of being afterwards divested in favor of the appointee under the power. Mr. Cornish in his essay upon " Uses,"* , . . ... _ The distinction be- by an inattention similar to that of Lord tween th* ancient _ tprciaZ trust and at. Leonards to the nature or a use, the *«/«-» ,tat»- which, as has been said, is the beneficial ownership of the estate, makes a curious blunder. But, in order to avoid misrepresenting Mr. Cornish, his lan- guage shall speak for itself: "It has been supposed " that the establishment of a solid distinction between " them (/. e., 'the trust and use of ancient times') is a " satisfactory negative to the question which has been " recently agitated, whether the above mentioned statute " of i Richard III, c. i, has been virtually repealed by " the statute of 27 Hen. VIII. The words of the statute " of Richard are confined to uses ; hence it has been ,c supposed inapplicable to modern trusts, whether at " common law or by statute. But, perhaps the argu- " ment drawn from the original difference between uses " and trusts proves too much : for if the statute was " solely applicable to the primitive use, in consequence " of its nature substantially varying from the special " trust, why does it not embrace the modern statutory " trust, which under another name is the identical use " of our ancestors? " A modern trust, instead of being the identical use or our ancestors, is a trust superadded upon that ancient use. Mr. Cornish would do well to * Page j 1-2. 1 08 A USE UPON A USE. consult Whately's Logic in reference to the fallacy of employing the word ' identical ' when similarity alone can be predicated. By the use of this equivocal adjective he is misled to assume not merely a resemblance between a modern trust and an ancient use, but likewise an actual identity. It is only necessary to compare the two estates in order to detect the blunder which Mr. Cornish has made. It may be shown in the ordinary illustration : A is feoffee to the use of B in trust for C. The statute of Richard converts B's use into a legal estate, and thus divides the estate at law into two inde- pendent parts with concurrent power over it in the feoffee and in the cestui que use. The statute ofay Hen. VIII, reunites these separated parts in one legal estate, and in this limited view (which is also imperfect as the parts are united, not in the original owner, the feoffee, but in the cestui que use), may be said to repeal the stat- ute of Richard, though its general aim, as well as its effect; was to carry out more completely the design of that statute by transferring to the cestui que use the feoffee's legal estate. Now if the statute of Richard were to operate a second time, it would create a use (1. e., turn a trust, an equitable estate into a use, a legal estate) upon the use which the statute ofay Hen. VIII had executed. All the authorities agree that such a use is void. Where the trust is not limited upon the use which the statute executes, but upon a common law use, it has been the object of this article to show that the same reason applies. The first use exhausts the benefi- cial ownership of the estate, and any second use is void at law. Accord and Satisfaction.* It is proposed to consider, in a very brief way, the objection which is raised to the introduction of the doc- trine of novation into the common law. If that objec- tion rests upon any well-settled principle, it should by all means be sustained ; but if, on the other hand, it has no rational foundation, it should not be permitted to obstruct the operation of so useful a doctrine. Novation is a term of the civil law, and Novation, it was employed to denote the substitution of one contract in the place of another. A transaction of this kind was equally valid whether the original contract had been already executed as to one of the parties, or whether it still remained executory as to both. It is only in the latter event that the new is substituted for the old con- tract at the common law. The maxim of the common Jaw is, that an accord without satisfaction is no bar to a suit upon the original obligation ; and it is accordingly laid down, that an agreement to accept anything other than the original debt is not binding unless founded * Published in the London Law Magazine and Law Review ; Part for May, 1863. 110 ACCORD AND SATISFACTION. upon some new consideration. This, it Accordant! satisfaction a founded not on a con- w iH be observed, is not simply an appli- aideraiioD, but as an • • i r 1 .quality of consider- cation of the well-known principle of law which requires that each contract shall have a consideration, but it is an additional requirement that the consideration on both sides shall be equal. If a substituted stood upon the same Execut'ng a contract - . . ... , gives a creditor the footing with an original contract, the right to his debt, and 11) ■ • , i • \ using it as a consid- debtor s promise to give something else exation for a promise 111 • 1 , • r ,1 1 * uaninadentofown- would be a consideration for the relin- quishment of the old debt, and its relin- quishment would in turn be a consideration for the debtor's promise. And why may not a creditor relinquish a debt in consideration of the debtor's prom- ise ? Is if because a sum of money due is thought to be of greater value than the same amount of money in hand ? Such seems to be the drift of the reasoning against such relinquishment ; for it is advanced as an argument that a creditor having performed his part of the contract has a " perfect right " to the debt.* This is true ; but it makes in favor of, instead of against, the validity of the new contract ; it is a reason why the creditor can give the money due, but by no means why he cannot. One has a " perfect right " to money in his possession, but that was never heard of as an objection to his using it. A lawful way to use money is to give it in consideration for a contemporaneous promise. The relinquishment * Byles on Bills, Am. Edition, 182 and 154, note by the distinguished American editor. ACCORD AND SATISFACTION. \\\ of a debt to which the creditor has a " perfect right," is equivalent to an advance of an equal amount of money. Why does not the law treat it, then, as a consideration for a present promise ? It is said, in answer, that the creditor cannot be bound by a naked agreement to re- lease a debt. But it is a mistake to consider the agree- ment naked, and here lies the fallacy of the argument. It has a consideration; to wit, the promise of the debtor to give something else. Such a promise is deemed suf- ficient to sustain an agreement to pay money outright ; and, if so, it must, of necessity, be sufficient to sustain a promise to release a debt; for however "perfect" may be the " right " to the debt, possession is still necessary to make the ownership complete. Thus it appears that substituted and original con- tracts stand in reason upon the same footing. How then is the distinction which the law makes between them to be accounted for ? It probably arose from the following considerations. Should the courts examine into the ... c , iji Sufficiency of consider- consideration or contracts, they would be ation not required constrained by the principles of equity which guide their action, to require that the consider- ation on one side should be equal to that on the other. In order to enforce such a rule, it would be necessary to put a specific valuation upon each article that could be- come the subject-matter of a contract. But as the value of goods fluctuates according to the state of the market, this could not be done. The courts, therefore, would be obliged either to pronounce all contracts void for 112 ACCORD AND SATISFACTION. want of equality of consideration, or to assume to be the agent of both parties to re-adjust the terms of their contracts. It is to avoid either alternative that they refuse to inquire into the sufficiency of the consideration. Except in money con- There is one exception to the refusal to inquire into the adequacy of the consider- ation ; to wit, in contracts for the exchange of money. Here the value of the articles to be exchanged is fixed by law, and the courts cannot refuse, but are bound to take judicial notice of the fact. They accordingly hold that, as money is the legal standard of value, contracts to exchange different amounts of money are not binding, because there is no consideration for the balance of, or difference between, the two amounts. Extended by oversight An agreement to give a different to all contracts, r r 1 i amount or money from that due, or even the same amount upon a different time (time being an additional legal consideration without a return), is not binding, because it lacks the equality of consideration which the law requires in exchanges of money; and without a legal sanction to give the agreement efficacy, it amounts to nothing; hence it cannot be a substitute for, or satisfaction of, the debt. As agreements of this kind make up the bulk of substituted contracts, which are, for the most part, agreements either for a reduction in the amount of the debt, or for an extension of credit, it was inferred, though erroneously, that all substituted contracts are likewise not binding. It was not observed that where something other than money is offered ACCORD AND SATISFACTION. 113 in consideration for the money which is due, the trans- action stands upon the same footing with other bargains ; in such a case, as in ordinary barter, the debtor agrees to give one thing in return for another. " And where," said Baron Parke,* " the matter pleaded in satisfaction " of a liquidated demand is of uncertain value, the court " will not set a value upon it, or inquire into the suf- " ficiency of the consideration." In consequence of this oversight in not discriminating between the two classes of contract, — that is, between contracts for the exchange of money, and contracts not for the exchange of money, — the ambiguous maxim, that an accord without satisfaction is no bar, was devised in order to prohibit all substituted contracts. That maxim says, that an agreement is not satisfaction of a debt ; it means, that a void agreement, which is not an agreement, is not satisfaction of a debt. The question always is, whether the agreement is binding ; that is, whether it amounts to a legal agreement. It is only when it wants some essential of a valid agreement, as e. g. a consideration, that it is said not to be a satis- faction of a debt. Where there is no doubt about the consideration, as in case of a fresh consideration, the agreement is invariably held to be satisfaction, if such was the intention of the parties. It is easy to see how the maxim, that an origin of the error. accord without satisfaction is no bar, originated. It is an undue extension of the familiar rule, that an agree- * Cooper v. Parker, 15 C. B. 8sa. 114 ACCORD AND SATISFACTION. ment to do what the party is already bound to do is not binding. Thus, in trespass for taking the plaintiff's cattle, it was held not to be a good plea to say, that there was an accord that the plaintiff should have his cattle again ; that not being satisfaction, unless accompanied by delivery of the cattle,* Accord- ingly, where the new agreement is merely to do what the party is already bound to do, it is strictly true that the additional agremeent is not satisfaction unless executed. The new agreement is not binding because it wants a consideration, and, therefore, having no legal existence, it could not be satisfaction of the demand. It is contended that the law must pro- Argnment of protection i • i would destroy the tect the creditor s rights, which would be freedom of contract. . ..._., . . _ impaired if the debtor could escape from the terms of one contract by making another. But the answer to this is, that the new contract, like any ordinary contract, requires the consent of both parties; and if the creditor cannot take care of his interest in making it, the reason must be that he is incapable of making any bargain. The argument proves too much; it would prevent all contracts. Instead of an injury, however, the new contract works a benefit to the creditor, as well as to the debtor. Take, for the sake of illustration, the following case: — A contractor, who is unable to raise money, is indebted to a person who is about to have a house built. Why should, not the creditor be allowed * i Bac. Abr. zi. ACCORD AND SATISFACTION. "5 to relinquish his debt, in consideration of his debtor's agreeing to build him a house of which he stands in need ? In this way the debtor would be enabled to pay his debt, which otherwise he could not do, and a creditor to save himself the expenditure of an equal amount of money. Thus it is often the only, as well as the best mode in which a creditor is able to collect his debts. It is evident that the maxim is not now I., ^ . . . _ Commercial paper, ooked upon by the courts with favor, which comprises Thus Baron Parke, following Mr. Justice tracts, not subject to r»i ■ i • • «... » . . , . the doctrine. xsyles in his treatise on Bills, decided in Foster v. Dawber, f that the rule does not apply to commercial paper; which he held to be governed by the law merchant, and to follow, in this respect the civil law and the continental law of Europe. By this decision, contracts for the exchange of money, which mainly take the form of promissory notes and bills of exchange, and to which alone, as has been shown, the reason of this rule applies, are withdrawn from its application. This decision looks like the precursor of the total overthrow of the maxim ; for it is inconceiv- able that the same court will continue, for any length of time, to hold an agreement to accept a part of a sum of money in discharge of the whole, to be satisfaction, if put in the form of a promissory note or bill of exchange, but not if put in any other form of a contract, even though it be followed by actual payment or execution. P. 153 f 6 Exch. 839. 8 Il6 ACCORD AND SATISFACTION. a knowledge of .he dvii The maxim, which is thus shown to law might have saved i t * € I !„„ +-C „„ C^ thecourtsfromgoing have been an imperfect generalization, is ^^Z an illustration, though an unfortunate one, ^^t^Z of the independent growth of the com- SZJl" mon law. Had the civil law been con- suited when a case first arose which called for an examination of the subject, the doctrine of nova- tion would have been adopted, as it was in Continental Europe, without hesitation. A strict analysis of the doctrine would have shown, it is true, that its applica- tion should be limited to such contracts as are not for the exchange of money, in which contracts there exists a perfect bargain, — one thing is agreed to be given in exchange for another. Money contracts, either original or substituted, which have but a consideration in part and none for the residue, should, in strictness, be pro- nounced void, but the decision should be distinctly put upon the ground of the partial absence of consideration, which does not apply to any other class of contracts. It is more than probable, however, that the great con- venience of leaving to the parties themselves the ques- tion of the sufficiency of the consideration would have determined the courts not to exact equality of consid- eration even in money contracts. Their subsequent conduct justifies this opinion. The maxim has been abandoned in all contracts which are put in the form of negotiable instruments ; in short, to speak generally, in all money contracts. The English courts are now in the awkward position of having subverted the maxim in money contracts, which gave rise to its invention, and ACCORD AND SATISFACTION. l\j to which it justly applies, and yet of upholding it in other classes of contracts to which it was, without reason, extended. The reason ordinarily given for the 'li ^ e c ^ e ^ t ^ s a consider- maxim is delusive. It is said that the atum for anew P rom- ..... . , . ... ... ise by a third per- old debt is a past consideration which will son, and why not by . . a debtor? not sustain a promise to do or give any- thing else in its stead. Now, as already stated, it is not a consideration for a promise of its own payment, for that is already due, and an additional promise would not add to the strength of the obligation. But it is a subsisting consideration to support a contract to do anything else, instead of paying the old debt. This is an independent transaction which the parties enter into after abandoning the old contract; which they are at lib- erty to do. Is there any doubt that a promise made by a third person in consideration for a transfer of the debt would be binding ? and, if so, how can the consideration be said not to subsist? and may not a creditor contract with his debtor as well as with a third person ? The law does not incapacitate a man from transacting busi- ness because he has once failed to meet an eng?gement. If it did, business would come to a dead stop. Now, if the debt still subsists, what a puerile formality to re- quire it to be first paid over and then paid back again before the new agreement is held binding ! Does this ceremony change the character of the money thus jug- gled? or is this circumlocution in harmony with the common law, which abhors circuity ? I I 8 ACCORD AND SATISFACTION. There is in this instance, as there is A set-off exposes the inconsistency of ac- generally, a mode to test the soundness cord and satisfaction, . . and subverts the doc- ofthemaxim, a species of legal vermca- trine. , • 1 i tion. The method is to ascertain whether the maxim is in unison with other legal principles. If it conflicts with them, it is an incongruity, and is neces- sarily unsound, whereas if it harmonizes with them, it may justly be deemed verified. Now suppose a cred- itor agrees with his debtor to advance, in cash, a sum of money equal to the debt in return for the debtor's agree- ment to furnish a specified quantity of merchandize. What is there to prevent the creditor from setting off the debt which he owes by this new contract against that which is due him by the old? Absolutely nothing. The old debt is extinguished by a set-off of an equal amount of money; so that it is, in reality, this advance of money which is the consideration for the new promise by the debtor. A novation is, therefore, but a set-off, and to deny its validity is to impeach that of set-off. An important decision in confirmation Novation established by authority in Penn- of the view here taken, is that of Christie sylvania. v. Craige. In that case the creditors agreed, on the day the note became due, to accept, in full satisfaction of the debt, a quantity of yarn. Black, C. J. : " An accord is generally no bar to " an action unless it has been followed by satisfac- " tion. But where a debt is due by one contract, the * 8 Harris Pa. R. 430, ACCORD AND SATISFACTION. 119 " parties may abolish it and substitute another in its " place. Here the original contract was for the pay- " ment of money. The parties agreed that no money " should be paid, but that yarn should be furnished in- " stead of money. They had the right to do this ; and " having done it, the bargain was for yarn, as much as " if money had never been thought of. If a creditor " consents to accept merchandize in satisfaction for his " claim, and the debtor invests the money with which "he would otherwise have paid it in the goods con- " tracted for, and has those goods ready at the time and " place agreed upon, it would be wrong to say that " money might be claimed afterwards. This principle " needs no case to support it; and common justice will " not tolerate that any authority should be set up against " it." This clear and emphatic language Though overruled , and , • a i*Ti * accord and satisfac- uttered in a case in which the point was tio „ re-established directly before the court, should, it would seem, settle the law upon this point, at least in Penn- sylvania. Instead of that, however, a recent case* re- establishes the maxim with a new gloss upon it, which makes it a still greater restraint upon the freedom of contracting. The facts of this case are well stated in the syllabus as follows : " A promise to take as payment of two notes, one " over due and one not yet due, fifty per cent, of the * Hearn v. Kiehl, » Wright Pa. R. 147. 120 ACCORD AND SATISFACTION. " amount of them, half in cash and half in a new note " at three months, is without consideration, and the " agreement is not binding unless executed." Woodward, J. : "Accord and satisfaction is a good " plea by a debtor to the action of his creditor, but the " legal notion of an accord is a new agreement on a new " consideration, to discharge the debtor, and it is not " enough that there be a clear agreement or accord, and " a sufficient consideration, but the accord must be " executed. The plea must allege that the matter was " accepted in satisfaction. * * * Such is the law be- " tween debtor and creditor. " The only consideration discernible in the agreement " alleged in the affidavit of defence in this case is time. " The sum stipulated to be paid in satisfaction of the " debt was to be paid a little sooner than the whole debt " would fall due, and that was the consideration for the " plaintiff's promise. There was no other. Granting " the sufficiency of this consideration, there was no ex- " ecution of the accord. * * There was, therefore, " no satisfaction and so no defence set forth in the affi- " davit." With great deference it is submitted that Mr. Justice Woodward stated the law in this case incorrectly. His Honor seems to have been misled by the inaccuracy of the terms of the maxim. The meaning of an accord is not a legal agreement ; if it were, accord would be satis- faction. It is an agreement which lacks some essential of a legal agreement, and by consequence, wants the sanction which makes an agreement binding, and thereby ACCORD AND SATISFACTION. 121 gives it a legal existence. Whether the consideration be new or old is not material, provided it is sufficient But his Honor's new definition that "the legal notion "of an accord is a new agreement on a new consideration," and the decision of Hearn v. Kiehl, in which case there was the new consideration of time, in accordance with that definition, make the maxim still more comprehensive than ever. Heretofore there has been no question as to an accord being satisfaction if founded upon a new consideration and accepted as satisfaction.* There is, it is true, an assertion to be foundf that an accord is not satisfaction, though founded upon a sufficient consideration; but the authorities cited, so far from supporting, actually contradict the assertion. If Mr. Justice Woodward's interpretation of the maxim be received, and an accord, though founded on a new consideration, must be executed before it can be pleaded in satisfaction, then nothing but actual payment will discharge a debt. In the State of Maine the principle of the maxim of accord and satisfaction, which is the equality of consid- eration in all substituted contracts, has been abolished by statute,!" which is in the following terms : " No " action shall be maintained on a demand settled by " a creditor, or his attorney intrusted to collect it, in * Chitty on Contracts, 659 ; Story on Contracts, $ 982 a ; Parsons on Con- tracts, 194-5-6, and cases cited ; Hart v. Boiler, 15 Sergeant & Rawle, 162. ■(■ 1 Smith's Leading Cases, 446. JR. S. of 1857, c. 82, § 44. "122 ACCORD AND SATISFACTION. " full discharge of it by the receipt of money or other " valuable consideration, however small." In the other States, Louisiana of course excluded, the maxim generally obtains.* * Clarke v. Hanvkins, ■* Ames, R. I. R. 219 ; Warren v. Skinner, 20 Conn. 559 j Rose v. Hall, 26 Conn. 392 ; Jones v. Perkins, 7 Cushman Miss. R. 139; Brown v. Cambridge, 3 Allen, 474; Matthis v. Brjson, 4 Jones, N. Car. R. 50S. The Ancient Commonwealth* The small bookf of M. de Coulanges contains the results of a lifetime's study of Greek and Roman insti- tutions. The purpose of the author is to The reintegration of • • t i i ancient society. represent, in its every-day, practical work- ings, the Roman law, which, it is well known, prevails as the common law of Continental Europe. A knowl- edge of the corpus juris, not as a dogmatic system, but as an exponent of the ideas which influenced the ancients in their daily transactions, would do much to destroy the evil political influences which lurk in the system ; it would strip off the disguise which has hitherto con- cealed the drift of arbitrary measures, and disclose the motive from which they spring; it would do away altogether with the indiscriminate application of Roman institutes to modern society; it would bring about an in- telligent discussion of the principles which should direct legislation, and it would prepare the way for the study of comparative jurisprudence, which is the grand want of the present day. * Reprinted from n American Law Register, N. S. 465. t A Study of the Religion, the Laws and Institutions of Greece and Rome, by Fustel de Coulanges, Professor of History in the Faculty of Literature at Strasbourg. A work crowned by the French Academy. 3d ed., Paris, 1870. Hachette & Co. 124 THE ANCIENT COMMONWEALTH. Accomplished by ge- What, is the imagination daring enough to attempt a task of such magnitude ? Niebuhr* and Schweglerf succeeded by sheer force of intellect in throwing an occasional gleam of light upon the early structure of Roman society, but the result of their investigations led to doubt and misgivings as to the credibility of history. It remained for a creative genius to seize, with the sagacity of inspiration, upon the fragments which lie scattered through the works of Greek and Roman authors, and to reconstruct out of the scanty material at hand, the life which was led by the Aryan race during the long periods of its development, from an humble origin in Central Asia to the imperial grandeur of universal dominion at Rome. This is the achievement of M. de Coulanges. He has caught the spirit of ancient life. His sketch of the different epochs as they succeed each other has the vividness of reality. The reader recognizes at once, in the delineation, the truth of history. The completeness of the triumph might mislead him as to the extent of the accomplishment, it seems so simple and natural now that it is done, did he not recollect the multitudinous failures which pre- ceded success. How, it will be asked, did the author Based upon thetraining of the French intei- become able to obtain such a result ? lect. Genius is not the revelation of knowl- * History of Rome, 3 vols., translated by Hare and Thirlwall, London, 1855. f Geschichte Roms von Schwegler, 3 Bande. THE ANCIENT COMMONWEALTH. 125 edge : it is the quickened intellect that apprehends the import of things which escape the attention of uninspired minds; and the information must be collected before the faculty of insight is called into play. The mind, too, must be trained for its work; experience adjusts its range and measures its resources. Here lies the se- cret. For centuries the French mind has been disci- plined by observation and study for understanding the laws which regulate the structure and movement of society. The basis of analysis is individual character, and while the rest of the world is still at this incipient stage of the process, the French have long since busied their thoughts with the ulterior problem : How charac- ter in the aggregate is moulded by the ideas which obtain dominion over it. This advance, made by the French in the scientific study of human nature, is recognized and acknowledged by other nations, though only when it is brought home to themselves individually. Ameri- cans cannot find words adequate to express their appre- ciation of the penetration which de Tocqueville displayed in his profound work upon democracy in America, and Englishmen rival them in admiration of the insight which detected and the intelligence which exposed with such wonderful clearness and precision the drift of mod- ern society ; though both are too apt to disparage the French, and echo the shallow declamation about the frivolity of the race. Whoever treats de Tocqueville as an exceptional phenomenon, and not as the product of the antecedent training of the French intellect, betrays his own triviality and lack of sustained thought. The 126 THE ANCIENT COMMONWEALTH. very originality by which he startled the Anglo-Saxon world, lay in detecting the resemblance which exists in reality, though covered up by a divergence in external forms, carried to the extreme point of contrast, between the social state of France and that of the United States. He was enabled to discover the likeness and draw the parallel between the two nations by reason of the inti- mate knowledge he possessed of the causes which in- duced the transformation of society in France ; and he derived this knowledge from the introverted researches of his countrymen, who have advanced the study of mankind to a science. The evidence, were any required, of his raison d'etre would be the adjustment of his mind to the actual stage and course of French thought which, already prepared for the results of his observation and reflection, would take them up, and carry them on to the greatest advantage. This has been the success which attended de Tocqueville's work in France, and on the other hand it has produced nothing but a transient effect elsewhere. In this connection it should not pass unob- served that it is France which constitutes the main sub- ject of his reflections, and which forms the background of his portraiture of America. He takes the United States as an illustration of the predisposing causes which are at work remoulding society, because they are alike in both countries, and are not resisted in America, as they are in France, by influences of an opposite ten- dency, but work out in natural development the charac- ter inherent in them. American institutions serve to THE ANCIENT COMMONWEALTH. \2J foreshadow the future of France. In Scientific serenity dis . Ai o • , " .1 • , ' r concerts partisanship. nglo-baxon communities the scientific method was not understood, and the English particu- larly, who mistook the work for a political pamphlet, caught it up with enthusiasm, and tried to turn it to partisan ends, but the serene truthfulness of the scien- tific temperament disconcerted them. It indicated a method of investigation which required, so profoundly- identified is party pride with individual character, self- abnegation, and the renunciation of science was easier than of self. They were accustomed to that spurious nondescript species so impartially typified in Hallam, who is all the more a partisan because he throws the great weight of his character and intellect into the advo- cacy of a party. He apprehends with the clearest grasp the strong points of his position, and he presents them in a form which seems to exclude the necessity of argu- ment, whilst he disarms antagonism by the courtesy of his address, and with an apparent fairness professes to render full justice to his opponents, though all the time he is seeking to overpower them with his massive strength and cunning. Marshall is his American coun- terpart. The undertaking of de Tocqueville, to De Tocquevnie-s work detect the latent springs of action in lslUT "" nK ' American life, and to explain how the motives which in- fluence conduct shaped the destiny of society, was not less vast than it was complicated. But the material for investigation was at hand ; he visited the United States 128 THE ANCIENT COMMONWEALTH. and travelled through them, surveying the people in their various aspects, and mingling with them at every point. No reporter interviewed the personages with whom he came in contact more searchingly than did this unob- trusive noble of France, and though, in his desire for knowledge, he had the curiosity of a Yankee, his inquisi- tiveness sprang from no vulgar instinct; it was dignified by an intellectual purpose. He speaks in his correspond- ence with delight of the communicativeness of railway acquaintances, and contrasts the information which he gained from uncouth travelling companions in America with the sterility of well-bred Europeans. In fact his great De conges revitai- work is a study from life. The work of izes antiquity. i /-. t , i de Loulanges, on the contrary, is a re- search into states of society which have long ages since passed out of existence and left but the shadowiest traces that they ever had been. To reconstruct the fabric of society as it stood anterior to the earliest vestiges of history, and to exhibit the mutations which it underwent from its origin to its culmination and decay, seems like childish audacity. Gigantic as is the feat, it has not only been undertaken but performed by de Coulanges. With a steadier insight than Mon- tesquieu he has divined the spirit of laws ; and the motive of conduct once laid bare, it is easy to interpret the facts of antiquity ; restored to the functions of life, they reveal society in its spontaneous movement. It is when the result of his investigations is brought to the surface, and presented in the guise of history, that the profound originality of the author is comprehended. THE ANCIENT COMMONWEALTH. I 29 History ceases to be a catalogue of the external incidents in the life of a people; it becomes an exposition of the ideas which prevailed among them. It is the evolution and revolution of thought which mark the events and epochs of history. To what extent de His WO rk a contrast to /~* 1 1 * , 1 1 1 • i,i 1 • histories & tendance. LouJanges has intellectualized the subject, may be measured by instituting a comparison between him and Grote or Mommsen. They do not seek to master the inner life of the ancients, and to explain the course of events by a knowledge of the modes of thought which governed the classical mind. On the contrary, they blunder over and disregard the distinction which separates an ancient from a modern, and apply to the interpretation of ancient conduct the principles and the- ories of life which had no influence upon, or evtn exist- ence in, the minds of the individuals whom they describe. This is bad enough, but they add infatuation to blind- ness, and write for a purpose entirely apart from that which they profess ; they disfigure and travesty the events and characters of history for the sake of party. It is a satisfaction to know that they will receive their reward. Written under the impulse of a transient caprice, their elaborate works, like Mitford's History of Greece, will be discarded and shelved by the next gener- ation. In fact they are antiquated already, and have been superseded by authors who are possessed of deeper penetration, and who are elevated above the low stand- ard of politics by the spirit of science and by the appre- ciation of truth. It is a relief to turn from the freaks and humors of partisanship, and, with de Coulanges, to I30 THE ANCIENT COMMONWEALTH. contemplate history in the "dry light" of thought. His work belongs to that class designated by the Ger- mans as Culturgeschichte. There is no corresponding word in English, and the nearest approach to an equiva- lent is the History of Civilization, though that is too vague a generality. The meaning of the term, however, will be understood by the contents of the book, which furnishes the finest type of the class. society created by a The first point which attracts attention, is the fact that a particular race has been able to found a regular government; not an easy task among the roving, unstable savages of early times. " To give them common rules of conduct," says the author, " to establish, command and make them accept " obedience, to make passion yield to reason, and private "judgment to public authority, requires something " stronger than material force, more worthy of respect " than interest, more certain than a philosophical theory, " more unchangeable than a contract, something which " resides in all hearts and rules them with sovereign " sway. That something is a belief." The creed which first took possession of the imagina- tion and subjugated the intellect of men, would, merely as a psychological fact, absorb the the interest of serious beings who recognize in religion the deepest emotion of the soul ; but when the belief has not merely gained an ephemeral ascendency, but has maintained its supremacy over the race during the vast cycles of its existence, until it organized a society which was the embodiment THE ANCIEN1 COMMONWEALTH. 131 of its dictates, every one is profoundly interested in the phenomenon. Such is the Aryan religion. Speaking of it de Coulanges says : "A comparison of the tenets and of the laws show that " a primitive religion constituted the Greek and Roman " family, established marriage and the paternal authority, " fixed the degrees of relationship, consecrated the right " of property and the right of inheritance. This same " religion, after having enlarged and extended the family, " formed a wider association in the commonwealth, and " reigned in it as in the family. From it have come all " the institutions as well as all the private laws of the " ancients. It is to this that the commonwealth owed its " principles, its rules, its usages and its magistracies. " But in the course of time these old tenets were modified " or effaced ; private law and political institutions were " changed with them. Then unfolded itself a series of " revolutions, and social transformations followed regu- " larly the transformation of the intelligence." The starting point in the creed was the . The worship of depart- worship of the dead. It is perhaps at the edancestorsihefoun- dation of religion. news of death that man received for the first time an idea of the supernatural, and that he as- pired to hope for something beyond what he saw. Death was the first mystery ; it put man on the way to other mysteries. It elevated his thoughts from the visi ble to the invisible, from the transitory to the eternal, from the human to the divine. The belief prevailed that man, when he died, did not cease to exist; he con- I32 THE ANCIENT COMMONWEALTH. tinued the career which he had begun in life, though now he rose to the rank of a god. The tomb in which he lay buried was his temple, and before it stood an altar for the sacrifices which were rendered to him as a deity. Though invisible to the human eye he did not become immaterial ; he retained the cravings of the body. Without nourishment he could not repose in peace; he was forced to abandon his home and wander abroad a perturbed ghost. Neglected and unhappy, he became malevolent; he visited upon the living who were guilty of impiety in not sacrificing to him with food and wine, the evils they most dreaded. He afflicted them with disease, he destroyed their crops, he haunted them with apparitions. Until appeased and propitiated by the funeral repasts, he gave mortals no rest or com- fort, but harassed them with apprehensions and troubles. Restored to his home by the offerings and libations which were due him, he became reconciled to his own, and was now to them who honored him a tutelary di- vinity. To protect them he continued to take part in human affairs, and constantly intervened as a god. Dead though he was, he knew how to be quick and powerful. He was addressed and his aid and favors were invoked with prayers. A tomb was not passed without a supplication that the god within would be pro- pitious. The power which the ancients attributed to the dead may be judged by the prayer which Electra addressed to the shades of her father : " Take pity upon me and upon my brother Orestes; cause him to return to this land; hear my prayer, O, my father; grant my THE ANCIENT COMMONWEALTH. J 33 request and receive my libations." These powerful gods did not confer merely material benefits; for Electra adds : " Give me a heart more chaste than that of my mother, and hands more pure." The sacred fire which burns upon the altar in each house among the Greeks and Romans, was the symbol of the departed soul and its mysterious presence. Everything which was thought to be agreeable to a god was devoted to the flame — flowers and fruits, incense, wine, and victims. The object of adoration was not taken from the physical world ; it was found in man himself; it was the invisible being who resides within, the moral and thinking force which animates and gov- erns the body. The essence of every sacrifice was to keep up and revive the sacred fire, to nourish and de- velop the spiritual body of the god. It was for this reason that before everything else they gave him wood; it was for this reason that afterwards they poured upon the altar the fiery wine of Greece, and oil, and incense, and the fat of victims. The deity re- ceived these oblations ; he devoured them ; satisfied and radiant, he erected himself upon the altar, and illumina- ted the worshipper with his rays. That was the moment to invoke him; the hymn of prayer issued from the heart of man. De Coulanges remarks with acuteness FamiIy t he boundary as well as justice, that mankind does not adopt now, nor has it for many centuries admitted a re- ligious system, except upon two conditions ; one that it r 34 THE ANCIENT COMMONWEALTH. reveals to him a universal god ; the other that it ad- dresses its precepts to all men, and is open to all, not repelling systematically any class nor any race. But this religion of the early times does not fulfil either of these two conditions. Not only did it not offer a universal god for the worship of man, but its gods did not even accept the worship of all men. They did not present themselves as being the gods of the human race. They did not even resemble Brahma, who was, at least, the god of a great caste ; nor Zeus, who was a god of an entire nation. In this primitive religion each god could be adored only by a single family. The services ren- dered to him could not be performed by any one who was not of his blood; and the nearest relative must celebrate the funeral obsequies. No stranger was per- mitted to attend the funeral repasts, which were renewed at stated intervals, nor even to approach a tomb ; his presence disturbed the repose of the god. The word by which the ancients designated the worship of the dead is significant ; the Greeks said xarptdsetv, the Latins said parentare. That is, the prayer and the offering were addressed by each only to his fathers. The wor- ship of the dead was exclusively the worship of the ancestors. We have assuredly great difficulty, as de Coulanges remarks, to comprehend how a man could worship his father or his ancestor. To make of man a god seems to us a mockery of religion. It seems to us almost as difficult to comprehend the ancient beliefs of these men, as it would have been for them to imagine ours. But reflect that the ancients did not have the THE ANCIENT COMMONWEALTH. J 35 idea of creation ; hence the mystery of generation was for them what the mystery of creation may be for us. The procreator appeared to them a divine being, and they worshipped their ancestor. This sentiment must have been very natural and very powerful, for it appears as the principle of religion at the origin of nearly all human societies. Each family had its tomb, where its members went one after another to take their rest, always united in death. The ceremonies of the worship were conducted in secrecy, and to avoid the public gaze the tomb was situated inside of the mansion ; hence came the designa- tion of ancestors as dii penates, or 9eo\ iiu%toi — gods of the interior. The rites were prescribed and regulated by the head of the family, who officiated as' priest in the service. Though the Pontifex at Rome, or the Arkon at Athens, after their supervision had been introduced, might see that he performed his functions, they were not at liberty to interfere with the celebration or to dictate the formulas which should be employed. The rule was imperative: Suo quisque ritu sacrificia faciat. A domestic religion of this kind was evidently not revealed by the imagination of any gifted son of man ; nor was it propagated by a caste of priests. It arose spontaneously in the human breast. Its cradle was the family. The father, in giving life to his son, gave him at the same time his creed, his religion, the right to guard the altar, to offer the funeral repast, to pronounce the sacred formulas of prayer. Generation established a mysterious bond between the child who was born to 136 THE ANCIENT COMMONWEALTH. life and all the gods of the family. These gods were even members of his family — Bzo\ lyyv^u — that is, of his blood — 9eo\ auvanot. The child therefore brought with him the right by birth to adore them and to offer them sacrifices; as in like manner when death in good time should have rendered him divine, he would be counted in his term among the gods of the family. Transmit ciy A peculiarity, which it is important to remark in the domestic religion, consists in its propagation only through males. This is due, without doubt, to the idea which men had of generation. The belief of the primitive ages, as it is found in the Vedas, and as it is seen in the vestiges scattered throughout Greek and Roman law, was that the repro- ductive power resided exclusively in the father. The father alone possessed the mysterious principle of being and transmitted the spark of life. It resulted from this ancient opinion, that the administration of the domestic religion passed always, as a matter of course, from male to male; that a woman did not participate in it except by the intermediation of her father or of her husband, and also that after death a woman did not receive the same share as a man in the worship or in the ceremonies of the funeral repasts. who dung to the aitar. An adequate explanation of the ancient family requires, however, something besides generation, for the sister did not take the same place in the family that the brother did, and the emancipated ceased ipso THE ANCIENT COMMONWEALTH. 137 facto to form any part of it. Nor was natural affection the basis of the family. The historians having dis- covered that it was founded neither in birth nor in affec- tion, ascribed its origin to the paternal power, and made out of the superior force of the husband over his wife, and of the father over his children, the establishment of the family. Now it is a grave delusion thus to put force as the origin of law. We shall see elsewhere that the paternal or marital power, far from having been a first cause, has been itself an effect; it was derived from religion and has been established by it. That was not therefore the principle which constituted the family. That which united the members of the ancient family was something more powerful than birth, than affection, than physical force ; it was the religion of the altar and of the ancestors. This it was that caused the family to form one body in this life and in the other. It was not, of course, religion that created the family, but it was religion which gave to it its rules, and from that circumstance has it come that the ancient family has a constitution so different from that which it would have had if natural affections had been the only motives for its establish- ment. The ancient Greeks had a term very significant to designate a family; they said: Uienov, a word which signifies literally, that which is near an altar. A family was a group of persons to whom religion gave the right to invoke the same altar, and to offer funeral repasts to the same ancestors. A daughter took part in the religious services with her father, a wife with her husband. Unlike a savage I38 THE ANCIENT COMMONWEALTH. that guards his amulet or idol for himself, the husband did not appropriate the tutelary divinity to himself, but admitted his wife to share in the worship and in the Ma^ge a cha^e of protection with him. Marriage, there- reigion. fore, was a step of grand importance, as it involved a change of religion, a renunciation of the gods whom the daughter had been brought up to rever- ence and adore, and the conversion to a new creed with other gods who tolerated no rival worship. As might be anticipated, the ceremony was purely a sacrament, which the original name, riw<;, imports. It consisted of three parts or acts, the traditio, deductio in domum and confarreatio of the Roman law. In Greece, the ceremony began before the altar of the father, who, surrounded by his family, and in the presence of the suitor, offered up a sacrifice. At its close he declared, in pronouncing a sacramental formula, that he gave his daughter to the young man. This was requisite to release her from the obligations of her maiden religion. Then she was transported to the mansion of her husband, either by him or the herald, who was clothed with sacerdotal functions. The maid was ordinarily placed in a chariot. She had her face covered with the veil, and on her head was a crown, which was used in all the ceremonies of worship. Her robe was white, and white was the color of the vestments in all religious services. She was preceded by one who bore a torch ; it was the nuptial torch. Throughout the route was chanted around her a religious hymn, which had as its re- frain, u) 6/j.rjv, 3 viiivais. This hymn was called Hymen, THE ANCIENT COMMONWEALTH. 139 and the importance of this sacred chant was so great that it gave its name to the entire ceremony. Arrived at her new home, it was necessary that her husband should feign to carry her off without her consent, that she should resist with cries, and that the women who accompanied her should pretend to defend her. Why this rite ? Was it not to mark with force that the wife who was about to sacrifice at the altar had no right there of herself, that she did not approach at the insti- gation of her own will, and that it was necessary that the representative of the locality and of the deity should introduce her to it by an act of his power ? This was the prelude to the ceremony. The sacred act was now about to take place. The pair approach the altar;, the bride stands in the presence of the domestic divinity ; she touches its emblem, the sacred fire; she is annointed with the purifying liquid. Prayers are said. Then the bride and groom share between them a simple cake (panis farreus), and the partaking of the sacred com- munion together unites them with each other and with the domestic gods so indissolubly that nothing but a ceremony performed with equivalent solemnities could dissolve the relation. The phraseology of the jurists is now intelligible; they define marriage thus: Nuptite sunt divini juris et humani communicatio ; and again Uxor socia humane rei atque divina. This religion taught man that the conjugal relation was something other than a connection of the sexes and a passing emotion, and it united the pair by the powerful tie of the same worships and of the same 140 THE ANCIENT COMMONWEALTH. belief. The ceremony of the wedding was, besides, so solemn, and produced consequences so grave, that it is not to be wondered at that men should not have thought it allowable or even possible for more than one woman in each mansion. Such a religion could not admit polygamy. Future biiss contingent The future life was not contemplated upon children. . , . T c 1 as the reward or punishment ror the con- duct led by the deceased, but his fate in the other world depended upon the observance by his decendants of his wants. His only anxiety was that some one of his blood should live to lay offerings on his tomb. Solicitude for the welfare of the ancestors constituted the fundamental principles of domestic law. From it resulted the rule that each family should perpetuate itself, for extinction of its issue reduced the gods to evil spirits, who roamed abroad and led a wretched and damned existence. Each member, therefore, had a powerful inducement to leave a son after him, con- vinced that upon that depended a glorious immortality. The laws of Manu described the eldest son as him who was begotten for the accomplishment of duty towards the ancestors. The religion which formed the family required imperiously that it should not perish. In view of this dictate of morality, celibacy became at once a serious impiety and a misfortune; a sin, because it put in jeopardy the happiness of the departed mem- bers of the family ; a misfortune, because the bachelor himself could not receive any worship after his death; THE ANCIENT COMMONWEALTH. I 4 1 a man did not, according to ancient belief, belong to himself; he belonged to his family. He was one in the series and he had no right to arrest the series at himself. He was not born by accident; he was in- troduced into life in order to maintain a religion, and he had no right to depart until he had made sure that the religion would be continued after him. The law accordingly compelled him to marry, and the object of marriage, as it is expressed in the sacramental formula of the wedding service, was to beget children ducere uxorem liberum quaerendorum causa, said the Romans : naldcov kit* dpoTw yv-qaicov, said the Greeks. Sterility was not only a ground of divorce ; it cast upon the husband the duty of putting away his wife, though like Cornelius Ruga, whom Aulus Gellius describes, he loved her devotedly and entertained unmingled admiration for her behavior. He was bound by his marriage oath to sacrifice his love in obedience to the sacred purpose, which would be frustrated did he not discard his wife and take another in her place. If on the other hand, the sterility was the result of his impotence, his brother or other near relative took his place, and the child was nevertheless reputed the lawful issue of the wed- lock, and continued the religion of the family; though an illegitimate offspring was not permitted to take any part in the worship, so great was the spiritual empire over man. With all the more reason the law prescribed the marriage of the widow who had no children, with the nearest relative of her husband. The son was reputed to be the issue of the deceased. 142 THE ANCIENT COMMONWEALTH. Adoption a demier The last resource which religion offered a family to escape the misfortune, so dreaded, of extinction, was the right of adoption. As the object was to have some one who would look to the perpetuity of the domestic religion, to the safety of the altar, to keeping up the funeral offerings, and to the repose of the spirits of the progenitors, it followed that it could take place only when there was no son to perform these rites of domestic worship. The adopted was, initiated into the mysteries and shared the religion of his new father, in sacra transiit. The correlative of adoption was emancipation ; before a son could enter into a new family, he must have severed the tie which bound him to the old family, and this was the bond of religion. The breach was significantly termed, sacrorum detestatio. Agnation, not consan- Relationship is defined by Plato to be guinity, the chain of religion. communion with the same domestic gods, and as above observed, the right to sacrifice at the altar was transmitted from male to male, and the worship of the dead was also addressed only to the ascendants in the masculine line. From this dictate of religion it resulted that relationship could not be made out through women. According to the opinion of remote times woman transmitted neither the exist- ence nor the religion. The son owed everything to the father. The much discussed agnation of the Roman law was nothing other than the relationship which religion had established at the beginning. In like THE ANCIENT COMMONWEALTH. 143 manner as the right to worship was transmitted from male to male, two men could be agnates, as is attested by all the jurisconsults, only if in remounting always through males they found a common ancestor. The rule for agnation therefore, was the same as for worship. Let it not escape the attention, however, that birth was not the principle of relationship ; it was not by descent through males that relationship was established; it was by the worship that agnates were recognized. The son whom emancipation had detached from the worship, was no longer the agnate of his father. The stranger who had been adopted, that is to say, admitted to the worship, became an agnate of the adopting father and a member of his family. So true is it, that it was religion which established relationship. The degrees were determined by the rites which were performed to the different series of ancestors. A question of paramount importance Propertythe outgrowth for the development and destiny of a " ' people is the institution of property. Some races never succeed in establishing private property, and others only after a protracted and painful effort. The Tartars conceive the right of property when it concerns flocks and herds, and they comprehend it no longer when it concerns the soil. Among the ancient Germans the land belonged to no one ; each year the tribe assigned to each member a lot to cultivate and the lot was changed the following year. The German was the owner of the crop, he was not the pro- 144 THE ANCIENT COMMONWEALTH. prietor of the land. It was the same in a portion of the Semitic race and among the Slavonic tribes. But the populations of Greece and Italy have always, from the remotest antiquity, recognized private prop- erty. At no epoch was the land held in common. The idea of private property was involved in the religion itself. Each family had its altar and its an- cestors. These gods could be adored only by the family which they protected ; they were its property. The altar is the symbol of sedentary life, as its name imports, iaria, larj/n, stare. The family which by duty and by religion, remains always grouped around the altar, becomes like it permanently attached to the soil. The idea of home arises naturally by association. Each altar, as it represents a separate religion, must be isolated by distance, if not by boundary, which marks clearly the limits which separate it from the domain of any other altar. The sacred enclosure which the Greeks call gpxos, and the Latins, herctum, was in compass sufficiently extended to contain the mansion of the family, its flocks and herds, and the little patch of ground which it cultivated. At stated intervals the head of the family made the tour around his farm, following the boundary line ; he drove before him the victims ; he chanted hymns and offered up sacrifices. By the ceremony he obtained the good-will of the gods towards his land and his mansion, and he fixed the inviolable limits of his domain. In subsequent ages, when the population has arrived in Greece and Rome and has built cities, the houses are brought closer THE ANCIENT COMMONWEALTH. HS ogether, but they are not contiguous. A party wall ?ould have been a sacrilege ; it would have destroyed he hallowed boundary of the domestic gods, and >rought ruin and desolation with it. At Rome the aw required a distance of two feet and a half to be ilways left open between two houses, and this space vas dedicated to the gods of the enclosure. 6eoi opioi )f the Greeks, and the god Terminus of the Latins. ft could not be acquired by prescription. The Greeks ;aid the altar had taught man how to build houses, [n fact as he was located by his religion in one place, which he believed it his duty never to abandon, he soon thought of raising on this spot a solid construction. A. tent suits the Arab, a chariot the Tartar, but a family with a domestic altar, must have a residence which will last. The hut of clay or of wood is replaced by the mansion of stone, which was built not only for the life of a man, but for the generations of a family which succeed each other in the residence. The family appropriates the land by placing in the soil its dead, md in so doing it implants itself there forever. The living scion of the family can truly say : This land is mine. It is so completely his that it is inseparable from him, and that he has not the right to part with it. He owed his title to the domestic gods, who conferred upon each family the right to the land. He holds it in charge for the members who are dead and for those who are to be born. It is identified with the family and cannot be separated from it. Even later in the history of the race, when the division of land was 146 THE ANCIENT COMMONWEALTH. permitted, it could be made only by a priest, the agrimensor, and a sale could take place only in the presence of the libripens, also a priest, and by the sacred formality of mancipation. Thus man arrived without discussion, without effort, without a shadow of hesita- tion, at one bound, and by virtue of his religious belief, at the conception of the right of property, that right from which all civilization has sprung. So powerful was the conviction of the inalienable right that a debtor, though imprisoned and reduced to servitude, still retained his property ; subjected to his creditors, his land followed him as it were into slavery : the master made use of the physical resources of his debtor, and enjoyed the fruits of his land, but he did not become the proprietor. Inheritance, like property, springs Held by the represents- . tive of the family as from the same source, religion. The ex-cfficio priest. estate devolves upon him who offici- ates in the family worship. As the son is the natural and enforced perpetuator of the worship, he inherits the property. Thus is the rule of inheritance found. The son does not succeed because the father wills it. No testament is required; the son inherits as a matter of right, ipso jure hares existit. He is even compelled to be heir hares necessarius. The judicial language of Rome terms the son hares suus, as if it said, hares sui ipsius. He inherits, indeed, only from himself. Between the father and him there is neither a gift, a legacy, nor a change of ownership. There is THE ANCIENT COMMONWEALTH. 1 47 simply a continuation, morte parentis coutinuatur dominium. Already during the life-time of the father the son was co-proprietor of the farm and of the mansion, vivo quoque patre dominus existimatur. To obtain a just view of inheritance among the ancients an estate should not be conceived as passing from one man to another. The estate is immovable, like the altar and the tomb to which it is attached. It is the man who passes. Under the dominion of religion the daughter, like an emancipated son, is excluded from the inheritance, while an adopted son acquires the estate of the family which he has entered. A last will would be an anachronism, and when in later times testaments were introduced it was conspicuously, by way of exception, accompanied with the greatest solemnity. It required the sovereign authority of the people, assembled in comitia, calatis comitiis, under the presidency of the Pontifix Maximus, to dispense with the genera) law, which regulated the order of succession, and to sub- stitute a special law for the occasion. Primogeniture and the paternal power resulted inevit- ably from the domestic religion with its sovereign pontiff. As everything was derived from this source, the priest became the natural proprietor, law-giver and judge. The word pater indicates the functions of his office. The epithet was originally synonymous with rex; it contained in it not the idea of paternity, but that of power, of authority, of mystic dignity. Familia means property ; it designates the farm, the mansion, the money, the stores, and, therefore, say the twelve 148 THE ANCIENT COMMONWEALTH. tables, speaking of the heir, familiam nancitor — let him take the estate. Gens, which is equivalent to genus, and corresponds with the verb gignere and the substantive genitor, expresses paternity and describes the ancient family. The family enlarged is The god adored by the family is a not dismembered, it continues as a tabe. common ancestor, and its temple is his tomb. The name which each member bore indicated the descent, as Claudius meant a son of Clausus ; it terminated invariably in ius, an adjective form, to denote the relationship, and in Greek ides or ades. The gentilis is the next of kin, and in default of agnates, inherits in preference to the cognati, the nearest relative through the maternal stock. Nothing can be more closely bound together than are the mem- bers of a gens ; united in the celebration of the same sacred cremonies, they aid each other reciprocally in all the needs of life. The entire gens answers for the debts of its members ; it ransoms the prisoner, it pays the penalty imposed by judicial sentence. If one of them becomes a magistrate they tax themselves to defray the expenses of the magistracy ; the accused is accompanied to the tribunal by all the members of his gens. But one member cannot call another to appear in the public courts, because justice is administered among its members by the gens itself, which has, in fact, its head, who is at the same time its priest, its judge, and its commander in chief, and he has exclu- sive jurisdiction. To go back in thought amidst THE ANCIENT COMMONWEALTH. 149 remote generations is to forget the mingled life which has been led for ages in cities or even in communities, and to let the imagination recall the periods when no life in common existed except within the circle of independent families. Religious isolation is the law of the family; its worship is secret. In death even, or in the existence which follows it, families do not mingle with each other; each one continues to live apart in its tomb, from which the stranger is excluded. Each family has its own property, that is its share of land which is inseparably attached to it by its religion ; its gods Termini guard the inclosure, and its departed spirits watch over it. The isolation of property is so obligatory that two domains cannot border on each other, and must have between them a strip of land which may be neutral and may remain inviolable. Finally, each family has its chief, as a nation has its king. It has its laws, which without doubt are not written, but which religious faith engraves in the heart of each man. It has its own internal judicature above which there is no other to which an appeal may be taken. Everything of which man has strict need for his material life or his moral life the family possesses in itself. It needs nothing outside; it is an organized state, a society which suffices unto itself. This family, in ancient times, was not reduced to the proportion of a modern family. In large communities a family dismembers itself, and is on the decrease; but in the absence of every other society it extends, it develops itself, and ramifies without dividing itself. Many 150 THE ANCIENT COMMONWEALTH. younger branches remain grouped around the older branch, near the one altar and the common tomb. The client too formed an integral part of the ancient family, and enjoyed its protection. He shared in its worship and bore the family name. This was the mode of life that continued through vast ages, and during which the private law of the ancients was founded. A comparison between the domestic institutes of the Hindus and of the Greeks and Romans interprets both, because they are both essentially alike, while there is no resemblance between the public law of the oriental and of the occidental communities. It would be not less instructive to follow out, with de Coulanges, the later development of the Aryan race, particularly through the stages which are indicated in the Roman law, than it has been to discover the starting point of the civilization which has spread its influence over the world. But it must suffice to have shadowed forth an outline of that primeval history which, in spite of the researches made into antiquity, has remained, until de Coulanges recreated it, unknown in its coherence, to mankind. No intelligent student of history will fail to read the book itself, in order to see how the patriarchal state entered into and deter- mined the character of the ancient commonwealth. The changes which took place with the enlargement of the community will be understood in their true significance ; the expansion of thought induced by the THE ANCIENT COMMONWEALTH. I5 1 wider range of life will account for the growth of social institutions. It is a salient trait of the French as it is of the German to move in the plane of general ideas with the ease and familiarity that an Englishman or American exhibits only in the concrete domain of practical life, and this facility enables them to appre- hend, not only with facility, but with nicety, the exact shade and lineaments of an idea, with the distinctness of vision. Law, when handled by a The spirit of law. master of this type, becomes what neither the practitioner nor the jurist ever dreamt of, a revelation of the course and development of the ideas which prevailed among the people who founded and built up the system ; it is the abstract and epitome of its history. As inter- preted by the author, the reader is startled by the consequences involved in an enactment and by the logical force of the deduction which he draws from it. Under his hand it yields up the secret of its existence and records the story of a struggle, the issue of which it embodies. Thus in every aspect, at the turning points of history, a different light is thrown upon the antique fabric of society, and it looms up above the horizon of the past as it were by the magic of enchantment. The book of de Coulanges will become the basis for the study of Roman jurisprudence. _ ' Solves its mysteries. Enough has been said to show that he has given the clue to its interpretation. At this very day the professors of law in the German universities are at a loss to understand the meaning of legal forms J 52 THE ANCIENT COMMONWEALTH. which he has made perfectly clear, and until each institute is comprehended in its original purport, the system is distorted and misapplied. Thus agnation, though greatly altered in the course of centuries, re- mained, nevertheless, the framework of the Roman family, and until it was explained, the unit of organi- zation in ancient life continued to be a mystery. The author netds no praise. The contemplation of his great work undoubtedly affords him, as it does every one who reads it, the profoundest satisfaction. It is the result of a rare combination of erudition, of sagacity, of reflection, and above all, of imagination. He seems to have digested every particle of ancient knowledge which is extant, and by dint of rumination to have filled his mind and saturated himself with the thoughts and feelings of the ancients. Antiquity bodied forth To him they are not phantasms, but intimate associates. He lives with them in the isolated home of the tribe and enters into the mysterious communion with the domestic gods who still take part in the vicissitudes of the family. A companion of the ancients, his remarks and allusions teem with disclosures of their character, life and habits, and open visits into the world of antiquity. No modern mind concentrated in business .could abound in maturer or more fertile suggestions about practical affairs than does de Coulanges in the fecundity and ripeness of his reflection about perhistoric man. As a Frenchman, he does not forget the art of presenta- tion : each chapter is a picture in itself, and represents THE ANCIENT COMMONWEALTH. 53 a phrase of thought reflected by one aspect of life, stated with the variety, the finish and the epigrammatic terseness of an artist. Successive chapters develop different though connected views, which enlarge the tableau, and the epochs are rounded off in the com- pleteness of miniature books. The introduction of Christianity and its effects upon ancient life appro- priately terminate the series of revolutions which in the lapse of time the race has undergone in the ex- pansion of thought. ' ' The lawless science of our law , That codeless myriad of precedent, That wilderness of single instances. ' ' A squib published by the clever editor of the Albany Law Journal in reference to the first article in the series, on ' Law as a Science,' when it appeared as a pamphlet, might have iuduced me to say a word in explanation by way of preface, had not a writer of pre-emi- nent accomplishments and power stepped to the front, and with the courtesy of knowledge given my lecture an introduction which will fix its point in the mind of the profession better than anything I could say. The Albany critic having set his heart upon a ready-made education, overlooked the hint I gave him to codsuU the civil law for the work- ings of the system ; which I had no time to explain, and could only refer to in its salient outlines. He takes me to task because I didn't teach him the corpus juris in an introductory lecture ! What a stomach for ' cram ' an editor possesses ? Did he learn the three thousand three hundred sections of that rationale of practice, tbe New York Code of Procedure in an hour ? He laughs in his innocence at the notion of putting into practice a scheme which has already existed as the standard of practice among civilized men for centuries in succession, until it has become the type of longevity in human institutions. He treats the perdurable monu- ment of practical reason, besides which the pyramids of Egypt are fragile, as a balloon drifting in vagrant space without any contact with the world in which we live, or like an evanescent bubble which vanishes at the touch of reality ! The editor makes believe that I intend to evolve law, as the German did the camel, out of the depths of my own internal consciousness. To refute me in buckram he cites as a parallel to judge-made law the scien- tific process ; which, it cannot be forgotten, is the identical method I insist upon. The editor agrees with me in spite of himself. He puts precedents upon the footing of experiments in natural science. " The very head and front of my offending Hath this extent, no more." My solicitude is to preserve the law from self destruction. To strip precedents of their artificial authority, and let them stand on their merits as experiments, is the sure way to perpetuate not to destroy the principles of law. Perhaps it is considered an affront among codifiers to allude to a system of j urisprudence. The code by its arbitrariness does, I am aware, put an end to comparative jurisprudence, as it takes away the interest in principle which is the touchstone' of analogy. James Parsons. THE SCIENCE OF JUDICIAL PRECEDENTS. We took occasion not long since on the appearance of Professor Parsons' intro- ductory lecture, on '* Law as a Science" to direct attention in a. general way to the paper. We are happy to know that it has been extensively read, generally compre- hended, and highly appreciated. But it has not been rightly comprehended by all readers, and by some therefore not rightly appreciated It has been supposed, and this too in a quarter eminently respectable to be a dangerous work, at variance with all regard for precedent, and to lift the mind away out of sight and sound of all sublunary matters. It has even been said that our learned professor would take away the authority of all precedents and turn the bar adrift on the ocean without compass, chart or rudder. All this view of the essay is a, great misconception of it. Professor Parsons, who is an accomplished German scholar, has become more enamored of German style than we ourselves ever expect to.be ; but there is no German obscurity in his ideas. He is infinitely removed from the new school of legal scientists, legoloists, or whatever else they are pleased to call themselves. All who know him know that he is a black letter lawyer ; a student and lover of the Year Books, of Bellewe, and Moore, and Anderson, and Plowden, and Coke It is strange indeed that such a man should be supposed to advocate that which we are sure he would only abhor. His high position as professor in a great university, daily becoming greater, and the importance of the whole subject on which he writes, leads us to make some remarks upon it. Professor Parsons sets out with the conviction that any " Code " as we now call it — that is to say, any body of statute law into which the principles of the common law and of chancery jurisprudence as estab- lished by judicial precedents, are resolved — with their supposed errors rectified, and their supposed defects supplied — to the displacing of the old system of reg- ulation by judicial precedents, — is a great calamity to any State which adopts it. In this we do most potently and powerfully agree with him. We believe too, that every right-minded lawyer from one end of Pennsylvania to the other agrees with him as well ; as we should think, also, that' every right-minded lawyer of New York, when looking at and contemplating the beautiful system of jurisprudence be- queathed to that State by the labors of a Kent and a. Spencer — a system capable through the means that they followed, of progression infinite towards perfection — and comparing it with what even the brilliant intellect, fine accomplishments, and unintermitted labors of Mr. David Dudley Field (to whose genius we will- ingly do honorj have now fastened on the State, would also do. We regard a code, just as much as does Mr. Parsons, as an abomination, is or would it diminish our alarm at any threatened infliction of it on us, that like other malignant disorders — the small-pox or the yellow fever — it has proved infectious on both sides of the At- lantic ; since in England we know very little as yet of its effects, while as respects ourselves, we do not know where we should look for a less healthy, less well regulated, less well working, and less satisfactory * Legal Gazette of December 24th, 1S7"> body of jurisprudence, than in those very States of our Union referred to, where the disease has widely spread. However, this is not a matter upon wh.ch we shall dilate. Some States, as New York, it is said, like the code. Some journals, like the generally excellent Albany Law Journal, see no wisdom out of of it. Mr. Parsons is content, we suppose, that if they like it they may enjoy it. All he asks is, that it be not inflicted upon us. He is addressing himself to young gentle- men preparing themselves for the most part, for the bar of Pennsylvania. Assuming therefore, that a code is a great evil, he goes on to tell his class, that if we wish to nvoid having one put upon us, we must, id the following of judicial precedents be governed by the true rules of science, applicable to the subject, the science of precedents ; and his position is that of these late days, we have such num- bers of tribunals, not composed by any means of first rate men ; the reporters send out upon us such infinite numbers of cases which establish no principle and properly considered are nothing but illus- • trations of principle, and frequently noth- ing but illustrations falsely made, that, by going on as we are going on, and regard- ing these as precedents, and by slavishly adhering to them when wrong, or rather by attempting simply to distinguish from them cases which really reverse them, while we profess to respect them, we are getting the whole subject of the Science of Judicial Precedents into a condition^ of confusion, inconsistency, a,ndi as we may even say, of absurdity, that leaves, to the common apprehension, no refuge but a code. Thus he says (p. 20) : "The complexity, the over refinement, the subtlety, the artificialness of the law, necessitate distinctions, if not without a difference, at least without the healthy so- lidity of common sense." Now is not this the constant position of the advocates of a code ? What, therefore, have they to say against what Mr. Parsons, and all who think like him here declare? So, after paying a just tribute to the genius of Austin, he says : " The motive which controlled him it is apparent was to escape from the chaos of precedents, and a code it cannot be doubted was less his choice than his only refuge." Mr. Parsons, and the most able of the advocates of a code, Mr. Field himself for example, agree as to the very unsatisfac- tory condition of judicial science as exhibi- ted in deductions from judicial precedents. The difference between them is that Mr. Field and his able and excellent advocate the Albany Law Journal, consider it an absolutely hopeless thing to do any better than we are now doing through the courts, and seek for refuge in the Legislature. Mr. Parsons says : "Not at all ! The evil that we both lament comes from a disre- gard of the science of judicial precedents; from case hunting ; from an abuse of the principle of citation ; from false appli- cations of admitted principles. Return to true principles of the very science itself and you will effect a perfect cure." Pro- fessor Parsons is a Union man. He says : " Assert the true principles of the consti- tution and seek relief within it." Mr. Field and his friends — the Albany Law Journal at their head — eo for " Immediate Secession,' - or rather they have seceded, and are now carrying on rebellion. There is just the difference between the gentle- men : there is no other. Now we agree absolutely to the truth of what Professor Parsons says. It is due to him however to say, that he does not exfoliate his positions and ideas. He is not writing a completed treatise upon what he touches on. The key note to the whole of that which has misled the few who misunderstand him is found in his note to his class acceding to their request for publication : " If the hint thrown out in this lecture should direct attention to scientific juris- prudence, and provoke discussion as to the true method of legal evolution, it will have fulfilled its scope." Professor Parsons as we have intimated is full of certain leading ideas. He sends them out in siDgle strokes. He does Dot qualify tbem, nor state the limitations on them, nor over-lay with exceptions. Hence those who do not read what we have quoted from his note, and who are enamored _of a code, see grand avenues that turn out cul de sacs; and think that the professor has planted ladders that lead them nowhere. Great is their mistake ! To explain more fully our ideas of Profes- sor Parsons, excellent purpose. We have in the law, certain, but not a few great cases ; cases which we know by the name of Leading Cases. They prevail in every department. Smith gives us English Lead- ing Oases at common law, "White and Tudor the same class of cases in equity, Hare and Wallace have collected Amer- ican Leading Cases, Hurd and Bennet give us Leading Cases in criminal law. We have, too. Leading Cases in pleading, mercantile law, and we know not in how many other branches of jurisprudence. And there are greatnumbers of such cases which remain uncollected in any form, but. subsist in Knglaud, and in all States of this Union, and in every court, federal or State alike, the records and exponents of great principles — undenied and undisputed — of morality and jurisprudence. But we have besides — and in this country especially, — infinite other cases. 'I he courts have for many years been sending them out the whole time ; they are now sending them out faster than ever. Pro- fessor Parsons says with absolute truth : " The American bar, scattered over the territory of a State or of the Union has no coherence, much less any corporate action. The judiciary so far from being its creature, is created by political or popular agencies, which are foreign to the bar. The bench, though it contains in its ranks lawyers who represent the culmina- tion (that is to say, the best ability) of the profession, is not made up in the aggregate of the great minds which lead the bar." Does any man doubt this ? Will any man assert that in any State of the Union or at Washington itself, the bench in its aggregate is made up of first rate men ; or of anything like first rate men ? Is it not notorious that on every bench throughout the country there are men who have worked themselves through the slime and sewers of party to positions which they do nothing but disgrace? And do we not, everywhere, account ourselves happy if there be salt enough in the judicial mass which has not lost its savor to give even a relish of salvation to the worthless part which undeniably has ? Certainly we do. And we fear that our peril from all which we speak of — great as it may now be — grows daily greater and greater. What then Professor Parsons says is, that from benches thus composed we must and will have a vast amount of sound law falsely applied. Does any one doubt that? And what Professor Parsons would aim at is to induce courts and bar, instead of continually referring new cases to this in- ferior sort of precedent, and of vainly striving in many cases to reconcile the new cases with them, to go at once to the principles of law as settled in the higher, better-considered, more authorita- tive and immovably fixed precedents, to which we have also adverted, and to cor- relate surbordinate things to them. H e is firing his shot into "the advocates of case law,'' mere case law ; at the men " who make technical rules give effect to merits ; '' a thing which he says and says truly •' is accomplished too oiten by forcing the law ;" by giving the cases cited as author- ities " a new twist never dreamt of before ; " or treatiug " the decisions' of courts as a dissolving view to obtain a judge's end and to make the law speak justice." The es- si nee of Professor . arsons' views is not expressed in any such absurdity as taking away the authority of precedent and leav- ing the bar to » free fight. What he means is : " Don't mistake false lights for true ones . . Don't see a principle in that which is the mis-application of a principle. Think, as well as hunt up cases in in- ferior courts, or decided by judges who are the laughing stock of the laud. If you do not think, if you do not •' rise to the level of generic thought," if, instead, you are going about with a watch-light hunting up unimportant cases in every dusty nook and corner, you employ a " dia- lect and not a vernacular tongue of reason- ing." The learned professor explains him- self in a sentence every word of which is golden : " There are but two or three master-minds in a generation. In science these rare spirits not only acquire the ascendency which their genius warrants, but they are welcomed by the plaudits of their fellows and are enthroned on the seat of empire. .England made a near approach to this ideal in its House of Lords. The two or three profound and original minds of the period, ' all England's ' chosen few, sat in council and heard on appeal the isolated cases which the intermediate courts found themselves unable to put upon the ulti- mate basis of reason. Next to the mental prowess and attainments of such men as Lord "Wensleydale, Lord Westbury and Lord St. Leonards, was the deliberation which characterized their proceedings. M o haste precipitated their action. Time is an element which gives maturity to thought as well as ripeness to fruit. The mind must brood over and become satu- rated with an idea before it can make it a part of itself, and stamp it with its own creative impress. The process of reflec- tion, alas, was not appreciated by the public. A popular hue and cry was raised against the tribunal, which con- tributed more that any one thing to redeem the common law. It did not sit day in and day out, nor grind out a maximum of de- cisions per diem. The quality of the mental workmanship was no answer to the clamor.'' Professor Parsons reverences precedent. He is a conservative of the conservatives as this extract shows. But he does not re- gard every decision as precedent. H e does not think every judge a Marshall or a Mansfield; nor every chancellor a. Hard- wicke or an Kldou, Hear him out : "The demand ol (he present day is quan- tity, which can diffuse itself broadcast over the country and reach every indi- vidual. The popular will has carried its point in America. The Supreme Courts of the main Stales at least sit as long as is compatible with human endurance and with human lile. The judges dispatch an average of several cases a day during the working months of the year. The intervals between sittings are employed in writing opinions The volume of composition in- dependent of its texture must equal the amount produced by the editor of a daily newspaper, or of a clergyman in a city parish. With never ending toil, a lawyer, though an mcyclopedia of reference, with a preternatural activity of mind and u, knack of putting his thoughts on paper, scarcely gets through his allotted share of the task. He never does his work to his own satisfaction. 'A judge has no time, in the pressure upon him, to enter with profound research into study of the princi- ples involved in a case.' " Who can deny any one word of all this ? Who but must deplore it all, as well ? It is to a slavish, technical, literal ad- herence to the opinions and to the dicta given in the latter sort of decisions, instead of an intelligent subordination or co-rela- tion, as we have called it, of the facts of new cases to the principles established in the former sort, that Professor Parsons ob- jectsin the bar as being a violation of true science ; "the mental frailty" as he says " which ensnares them in words " and pre- vents them from rising otherwise than seldom "to the greatness which ranks them in equality with the leading thinkers of the world." Surely if law is a science, — as even the advocates of a code admit it to be — all this is true. The names of few judges stand higher everywhere throughout this country than that of William Tilghman, long the honored (J hief Justice of Pennsylvania. What says Horace Binney of him. "Those who study his opinions, while they may remark that he was unusually sparing of references to authority, will find that it was the result of selection and not of penury. He was not, however, what is sometimes called a great case-lawyer 6 His memory did not appear to be tenacious of insulated decisions; nor is it usual for men of philosophical minds, who arrange the learning of their profession by the aid of general principles, to be distinguished by their recollection of particular facts. With the leading cases under every head, those which may be called the lighthouses of the law, he was familar, and knew their bearings upon every passage into this deeply indented territory; but for the minor points, the soundings that are marked so profusely upon modern charts of the law, he trusted too much to the length and employment of his own line, to oppress his memory with them. It was not his practice to bring into his judg- ments an historical account of the legal doctrine on which they turned, nor to illus- trate them by frequent reference to other codes, to which, nevertheless, he was per- fectly competent by the variety as well as by the extent of his studies. His prefer- ence was rather to deduce the sentence he was about to pronounce, as a logical con- sequence from some proposition of law which he had previously stated and settled with great brevity. No judge was ever more free both in mind and style from everything like technicality. He never assigned a technical reason for anything if another were at his command, or if not without sustaining the artificial reason by an explanation of its grounds. At the same time, his knowledge embraced all the refinements of the law, and he took an ob- vious satisfaction in showing their connec- tion with substantial justice.'' It is to make lawyers and judges of this stamp, and to prevent lawyers and judges of the miseiable stamp, of whom we have too many everywhere, who fill their briefs and their opinions with references that weigh down every particle of reason in them and are worth nothing when ex- amined, — that Professor Parsons in his training of young men rightly directs his labors. Does the learned professor in the University of Pennsylvania say any- thing more than did Chancellor Kent, A. D. 1826, when there was a thousand fold less ground for the observation than now. What said the chancellor ? After a fine essay on the value of precedents in general, he observes : " But I wish not to be understood to press too strongly the doctrine of stare decisis, when I recollect that there are more than one thousand cases to be pointed out in the English and American books of reports that have been overruled, doubted, or limited in their application. It is probable that the records of many of the courts in this country are replete with hasty and crude decisions, and such cases ought to be examined without fear, and revised without reluctance, rather than to have the character of our law impaired, and the beauty and harmony of (he system destroyed by the perpetuity of error." Is not this Professor Parsons' exact idea? Nay, wherein does he go beyond what Lord Chief Justice Hobart declared in the Augustan age of the English law, in A. D. 1603, or thereabouts. "Precedents tant habent de lege quam de justicia." Indeed, any reader who will be at the trouble to look at the preface to the seventh or any subsequent American edi- tion of Smith's Leading Cases, written by either Judge Hare or Mr. Wallace — the latter we assume — will see very much the same line of argument as to the mere matter of science in precedents.though with less rhetorical embellishment — as that pre- sented by Professor Parsons. The main ob- ject of the publication of Smith's Leading Cases, the Leading Oases in Equity, and of the American Leading Cases, is there de- clared to be to make the bar return " to the true principle of precedents, which by an excess of respect to cases, the mere illustration of them has been insensibly corrupted and almost forgotten." That preface, in print these ten years, created, we believe, no alarm. Another thing adverted to, and we think justly by Professor Parsons, as doing in- jury to the science of judicial precedents, is the way in which courts often attempt to reconcile a decision which they may be 1 now making with a preceding one, with which it is in truth utterly irreconcilable, and which it does in reality overrule. Every series of reports throughout the land is full of such cases. The case of Wilson v. City Bank (17 Wallace, 473), in substance and effect overruling Bu- chanan v. Smith (16 Id. 277), but profess- ing to respect it, and to distinguish itself from it, is a recent example in a very high court, familiar to all, on which ac- count alone we refer to it. Now, when, instead in such a case of overruling the wrong decision, a court, from a desire to keep up the idea of rever- ence to precedent, would give the bar to understand that the cases are both equally right — accordant in principle and distin- guishable only in instance — and goes perhaps into a long, able and ingenious argument to show this, may not Profes- sor Parsons well say, that : " when words cease to be the integument of thought " — meaning thereby when they do not ex- press what is thought, but express what is not thought — " they become' a senseless jargon ?" We think that he may. He re- marks, and as we think with perfect truth : " The argumentation which is kept up, on the delusive theory that the law is gradu- ally developing itself into a science, in spite of the inherent vice of the process, — a vice which dooms the lawyer to stand back from the portals of science — produces in the end a perversion of the reason. Consider the situation. A precedent is established, which turns out upon investi- gation to be founded upon a mistake of judgment. It is not the office of a judge to expose to error and unsettle the law ; his duty* is to hide the fault from detection and to argue from it as if it were truth. He often follows it under protest. The true basis of resoning is lost sight of. It is not a rule to explain a congeries of blunders. It is a principle which satisfies the reason. No science can exist if it ad- mits any tenet that does not represent the product of the best thought in the ranks of its adherents. It may not be the final analysis, and the moment it ceases to be the generalization which covers and explains the facts, it will be demolished by criticism and go by the board. There is no second-rate reason on which science can be built. The moment thought can detect a flaw in the reasoning, it ceases to command the mind's assent, and is no longer reason. Now who denies or can deny one word of all this : In conclusion of our long editorial, we beg to express our thanks to Professor Parsons for a thoughtful and able essay ; an essay " medicinable," as Lord Bacon would say, " to the times." We should have been glad had the . learned author explained in what way, — specifically — by what details of method, we mean, in the present highly artificial state of society, we are practically to give effect to his excellent ideas. That, however, he may, perhaps, reserve for a future essay. At present, as he says, he " throws out a hint " to " provoke discus- sion " on the topic, and so to get the best ideas of the bar. * Professor Parsons means of courBe his duty as settled by the vicious theory, idea or practice to which we have referred. sa «?<' -v^fi^ S&^ ■ 1 J* - - r* .' ', saws *:* fa* ~ .Tfcg 4 ^. U