Produced by Stuart E. Thiel





THE COMMON LAW

By Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr.



Conventions:

Numbers in square brackets (e.g. [245]) refer to original page
numbers. Original footnotes were numbered page-by-page, and are
collected at the end of the text. In the text, numbers in slashes
(e.g./1/) refer to original footnote numbers. In the footnote
section, a number such as 245/1 refers to (original) page 245,
footnote 1. The footnotes are mostly citations to old English law
reporters and to commentaries by writers such as Ihering, Bracton
and Blackstone. I cannot give a source for decrypting the
notation.

There is quite a little Latin and some Greek in the original
text. I have reproduced the Latin. The Greek text is omitted; its
place is marked by the expression [Greek characters]. Italics and
diacritical marks such as accents and cedillas are omitted and
unmarked.

Lecture X has two subheads--Successions After Death and
Successions Inter Vivos. Lecture XI is also titled Successions
Inter Vivos. This conforms to the original.




LECTURE I. -- EARLY FORMS OF LIABILITY.

[1] The object of this book is to present a general view of the
Common Law. To accomplish the task, other tools are needed
besides logic. It is something to show that the consistency of a
system requires a particular result, but it is not all. The life
of the law has not been logic: it has been experience. The felt
necessities of the time, the prevalent moral and political
theories, intuitions of public policy, avowed or unconscious,
even the prejudices which judges share with their fellow-men,
have had a good deal more to do than the syllogism in determining
the rules by which men should be governed. The law embodies the
story of a nation's development through many centuries, and it
cannot be dealt with as if it contained only the axioms and
corollaries of a book of mathematics. In order to know what it
is, we must know what it has been, and what it tends to become.
We must alternately consult history and existing theories of
legislation. But the most difficult labor will be to understand
the combination of the two into new products at every stage. The
substance of the law at any given time pretty nearly [2]
corresponds, so far as it goes, with what is then understood to
be convenient; but its form and machinery, and the degree to
which it is able to work out desired results, depend very much
upon its past.

In Massachusetts today, while, on the one hand, there are a great
many rules which are quite sufficiently accounted for by their
manifest good sense, on the other, there are some which can only
be understood by reference to the infancy of procedure among the
German tribes, or to the social condition of Rome under the
Decemvirs.

I shall use the history of our law so far as it is necessary to
explain a conception or to interpret a rule, but no further. In
doing so there are two errors equally to be avoided both by
writer and reader. One is that of supposing, because an idea
seems very familiar and natural to us, that it has always been
so. Many things which we take for granted have had to be
laboriously fought out or thought out in past times. The other
mistake is the opposite one of asking too much of history. We
start with man full grown. It may be assumed that the earliest
barbarian whose practices are to be considered, had a good many
of the same feelings and passions as ourselves.

The first subject to be discussed is the general theory of
liability civil and criminal. The Common Law has changed a good
deal since the beginning of our series of reports, and the search
after a theory which may now be said to prevail is very much a
study of tendencies. I believe that it will be instructive to go
back to the early forms of liability, and to start from them.

It is commonly known that the early forms of legal procedure were
grounded in vengeance. Modern writers [3] have thought that the
Roman law started from the blood feud, and all the authorities
agree that the German law begun in that way. The feud led to the
composition, at first optional, then compulsory, by which the
feud was bought off. The gradual encroachment of the composition
may be traced in the Anglo-Saxon laws, /1/ and the feud was
pretty well broken up, though not extinguished, by the time of
William the Conqueror. The killings and house-burnings of an
earlier day became the appeals of mayhem and arson. The appeals
de pace et plagis and of mayhem became, or rather were in
substance, the action of trespass which is still familiar to
lawyers. /2/ But as the compensation recovered in the appeal was
the alternative of vengeance, we might expect to find its scope
limited to the scope of vengeance. Vengeance imports a feeling of
blame, and an opinion, however distorted by passion, that a wrong
has been done. It can hardly go very far beyond the case of a
harm intentionally inflicted: even a dog distinguishes between
being stumbled over and being kicked.

Whether for this cause or another, the early English appeals for
personal violence seem to have been confined to intentional
wrongs. Glanvill /3/ mentions melees, blows, and wounds,--all
forms of intentional violence. In the fuller description of such
appeals given by Bracton /4/ it is made quite clear that they
were based on intentional assaults. The appeal de pace et plagis
laid an intentional assault, described the nature of the arms
used, and the length and depth of the wound. The appellor also
had [4] to show that he immediately raised the hue and cry. So
when Bracton speaks of the lesser offences, which were not sued
by way of appeal, he instances only intentional wrongs, such as
blows with the fist, flogging, wounding, insults, and so forth.
/1/ The cause of action in the cases of trespass reported in the
earlier Year Books and in the Abbreviatio Plaeitorum is always an
intentional wrong. It was only at a later day, and after
argument, that trespass was extended so as to embrace harms which
were foreseen, but which were not the intended consequence of the
defendant's act. /2/ Thence again it extended to unforeseen
injuries. /3/

It will be seen that this order of development is not quite
consistent with an opinion which has been held, that it was a
characteristic of early law not to penetrate beyond the external
visible fact, the damnum corpore corpori datum. It has been
thought that an inquiry into the internal condition of the
defendant, his culpability or innocence, implies a refinement of
juridical conception equally foreign to Rome before the Lex
Aquilia, and to England when trespass took its shape. I do not
know any very satisfactory evidence that a man was generally held
liable either in Rome /4/ or England for the accidental
consequences even of his own act. But whatever may have been the
early law, the foregoing account shows the starting-point of the
system with which we have to deal. Our system of private
liability for the consequences of a man's own acts, that is, for
his trespasses, started from the notion of actual intent and
actual personal culpability.

The original principles of liability for harm inflicted by [5]
another person or thing have been less carefully considered
hitherto than those which governed trespass, and I shall
therefore devote the rest of this Lecture to discussing them. I
shall try to show that this liability also had its root in the
passion of revenge, and to point out the changes by which it
reached its present form. But I shall not confine myself strictly
to what is needful for that purpose, because it is not only most
interesting to trace the transformation throughout its whole
extent, but the story will also afford an instructive example of
the mode in which the law has grown, without a break, from
barbarism to civilization. Furthermore, it will throw much light
upon some important and peculiar doctrines which cannot be
returned to later.

A very common phenomenon, and one very familiar to the student of
history, is this. The customs, beliefs, or needs of a primitive
time establish a rule or a formula. In the course of centuries
the custom, belief, or necessity disappears, but the rule
remains. The reason which gave rise to the rule has been
forgotten, and ingenious minds set themselves to inquire how it
is to be accounted for. Some ground of policy is thought of,
which seems to explain it and to reconcile it with the present
state of things; and then the rule adapts itself to the new
reasons which have been found for it, and enters on a new career.
The old form receives a new content, and in time even the form
modifies itself to fit the meaning which it has received. The
subject under consideration illustrates this course of events
very clearly.

I will begin by taking a medley of examples embodying as many
distinct rules, each with its plausible and seemingly sufficient
ground of policy to explain it.

[6] A man has an animal of known ferocious habits, which escapes
and does his neighbor damage. He can prove that the animal
escaped through no negligence of his, but still he is held
liable. Why? It is, says the analytical jurist, because, although
he was not negligent at the moment of escape, he was guilty of
remote heedlessness, or negligence, or fault, in having such a
creature at all. And one by whose fault damage is done ought to
pay for it.

A baker's man, while driving his master's cart to deliver hot
rolls of a morning, runs another man down. The master has to pay
for it. And when he has asked why he should have to pay for the
wrongful act of an independent and responsible being, he has been
answered from the time of Ulpian to that of Austin, that it is
because he was to blame for employing an improper person. If he
answers, that he used the greatest possible care in choosing his
driver, he is told that that is no excuse; and then perhaps the
reason is shifted, and it is said that there ought to be a remedy
against some one who can pay the damages, or that such wrongful
acts as by ordinary human laws are likely to happen in the course
of the service are imputable to the service.

Next, take a case where a limit has been set to liability which
had previously been unlimited. In 1851, Congress passed a law,
which is still in force, and by which the owners of ships in all
the more common cases of maritime loss can surrender the vessel
and her freight then pending to the losers; and it is provided
that, thereupon, further proceedings against the owners shall
cease. The legislators to whom we owe this act argued that, if a
merchant embark a portion of his property upon a hazardous
venture, it is reasonable that his stake should be confined to
what [7] he puts at risk,--a principle similar to that on which
corporations have been so largely created in America during the
last fifty years.

It has been a rule of criminal pleading in England down into the
present century, that an indictment for homicide must set forth
the value of the instrument causing the death, in order that the
king or his grantee might claim forfeiture of the deodand, "as an
accursed thing," in the language of Blackstone.

I might go on multiplying examples; but these are enough to show
the remoteness of the points to be brought together.--As a first
step towards a generalization, it will be necessary to consider
what is to be found in ancient and independent systems of law.

There is a well-known passage in Exodus, /1/ which we shall have
to remember later: "If an ox gore a man or a woman, that they
die: then the ox shall be surely stoned, and his flesh shall not
be eaten; but the owner of the ox shall be quit." When we turn
from the Jews to the Greeks, we find the principle of the passage
just quoted erected into a system. Plutarch, in his Solon, tells
us that a dog that had bitten a man was to be delivered up bound
to a log four cubits long. Plato made elaborate provisions in his
Laws for many such cases. If a slave killed a man, he was to be
given up to the relatives of the deceased. /2/ If he wounded a
man, he was to be given up to the injured party to use him as he
pleased. /3/ So if he did damage to which the injured party did
not contribute as a joint cause. In either case, if the owner [8]
failed to surrender the slave, he was bound to make good the
loss. /1/ If a beast killed a man, it was to be slain and cast
beyond the borders. If an inanimate thing caused death, it was to
be cast beyond the borders in like manner, and expiation was to
be made. /2/ Nor was all this an ideal creation of merely
imagined law, for it was said in one of the speeches of
Aeschines, that "we banish beyond our borders stocks and stones
and steel, voiceless and mindless things, if they chance to kill
a man; and if a man commits suicide, bury the hand that struck
the blow afar from its body." This is mentioned quite as an
every-day matter, evidently without thinking it at all
extraordinary, only to point an antithesis to the honors heaped
upon Demosthenes. /3/ As late as the second century after Christ
the traveller Pausanias observed with some surprise that they
still sat in judgment on inanimate things in the Prytaneum. /4/
Plutarch attributes the institution to Draco. /5/

In the Roman law we find the similar principles of the noxoe
deditio gradually leading to further results. The Twelve Tables
(451 B.C.) provided that, if an animal had done damage, either
the animal was to be surrendered or the damage paid for. /6/ We
learn from Gains that the same rule was applied to the torts of
children or slaves, /7/ and there is some trace of it with regard
to inanimate things.

The Roman lawyers, not looking beyond their own [9] system or
their own time, drew on their wits for an explanation which would
show that the law as they found it was reasonable. Gaius said
that it was unjust that the fault of children or slaves should be
a source of loss to their parents or owners beyond their own
bodies, and Ulpian reasoned that a fortiori this was true of
things devoid of life, and therefore incapable of fault. /1/ This
way of approaching the question seems to deal with the right of
surrender as if it were a limitation of a liability incurred by a
parent or owner, which would naturally and in the first instance
be unlimited. But if that is what was meant, it puts the cart
before the horse. The right of surrender was not introduced as a
limitation of liability, but, in Rome and Greece alike, payment
was introduced as the alternative of a failure to surrender.

The action was not based, as it would be nowadays, on the fault
of the parent or owner. If it had been, it would always have been
brought against the person who had control of the slave or animal
at the time it did the harm complained of, and who, if any one,
was to blame for not preventing the injury. So far from this
being the course, the person to be sued was the owner at the time
of suing. The action followed the guilty thing into whosesoever
hands it came. /2/ And in curious contrast with the principle as
inverted to meet still more modern views of public policy, if the
animal was of a wild nature, that is, in the very case of the
most ferocious animals, the owner ceased to be liable the moment
it escaped, because at that moment he ceased to be owner. /3/
There [10] seems to have been no other or more extensive
liability by the old law, even where a slave was guilty with his
master's knowledge, unless perhaps he was a mere tool in his
master's hands. /1/ Gains and Ulpian showed an inclination to cut
the noxoe deditio down to a privilege of the owner in case of
misdeeds committed without his knowledge; but Ulpian is obliged
to admit, that by the ancient law, according to Celsus, the
action was noxal where a slave was guilty even with the privity
of his master. /2/

All this shows very clearly that the liability of the owner was
merely a way of getting at the slave or animal which was the
immediate cause of offence. In other words, vengeance on the
immediate offender was the object of the Greek and early Roman
process, not indemnity from the master or owner. The liability of
the owner was simply a liability of the offending thing. In the
primitive customs of Greece it was enforced by a judicial process
expressly directed against the object, animate or inanimate. The
Roman Twelve Tables made the owner, instead of the thing itself,
the defendant, but did not in any way change the ground of
liability, or affect its limit. The change was simply a device to
allow the owner to protect his interest. /3/

But it may be asked how inanimate objects came to be [11] pursued
in this way, if the object of the procedure was to gratify the
passion of revenge. Learned men have been ready to find a reason
in the personification of inanimate nature common to savages and
children, and there is much to confirm this view. Without such a
personification, anger towards lifeless things would have been
transitory, at most. It is noticeable that the commonest example
in the most primitive customs and laws is that of a tree which
falls upon a man, or from which he falls and is killed. We can
conceive with comparative ease how a tree might have been put on
the same footing with animals. It certainly was treated like
them, and was delivered to the relatives, or chopped to pieces
for the gratification of a real or simulated passion. /1/

In the Athenian process there is also, no doubt, to be traced a
different thought. Expiation is one of the ends most insisted on
by Plato, and appears to have been the purpose of the procedure
mentioned by Aeschines. Some passages in the Roman historians
which will be mentioned again seem to point in the same
direction. /2/

Another peculiarity to be noticed is, that the liability seems to
have been regarded as attached to the body doing the damage, in
an almost physical sense. An untrained intelligence only
imperfectly performs the analysis by which jurists carry
responsibility back to the beginning of a chain of causation. The
hatred for anything giving us pain, which wreaks itself on the
manifest cause, and which leads even civilized man to kick a door
when it pinches his finger, is embodied in the noxoe deditio and
[12] other kindred doctrines of early Roman law. There is a
defective passage in Gaius, which seems to say that liability may
sometimes be escaped by giving up even the dead body of the
offender. /1/ So Livy relates that, Brutulus Papins having caused
a breach of truce with the Romans, the Samnites determined to
surrender him, and that, upon his avoiding disgrace and
punishment by suicide, they sent his lifeless body. It is
noticeable that the surrender seems to be regarded as the natural
expiation for the breach of treaty, /2/ and that it is equally a
matter of course to send the body when the wrong-doer has
perished. /3/

The most curious examples of this sort occur in the region of
what we should now call contract. Livy again furnishes an
example, if, indeed, the last is not one. The Roman Consul
Postumius concluded the disgraceful peace of the Caudine Forks
(per sponsionem, as Livy says, denying the common story that it
was per feedus), and he was sent to Rome to obtain the sanction
of the people. When there however, he proposed that the persons
who had made the [13] contract, including himself, should be
given up in satisfaction of it. For, he said, the Roman people
not having sanctioned the agreement, who is so ignorant of the
jus fetialium as not to know that they are released from
obligation by surrendering us? The formula of surrender seems to
bring the case within the noxoe deditio. /1/ Cicero narrates a
similar surrender of Mancinus by the pater-patratus to the
Numantines, who, however, like the Samnites in the former case,
refused to receive him. /2/

It might be asked what analogy could have been found between a
breach of contract and those wrongs which excite the desire for
vengeance. But it must be remembered that the distinction between
tort and breaches of contract, and especially between the
remedies for the two, is not found ready made. It is conceivable
that a procedure adapted to redress for violence was extended to
other cases as they arose. Slaves were surrendered for theft as
well as [14] for assault; /1/ and it is said that a debtor who
did not pay his debts, or a seller who failed to deliver an
article for which he had been paid, was dealt with on the same
footing as a thief. /2/ This line of thought, together with the
quasi material conception of legal obligations as binding the
offending body, which has been noticed, would perhaps explain the
well-known law of the Twelve Tables as to insolvent debtors.
According to that law, if a man was indebted to several creditors
and insolvent, after certain formalities they might cut up his
body and divide it among them. If there was a single creditor, he
might put his debtor to death or sell him as a slave. /3/

If no other right were given but to reduce a debtor to slavery,
the law might be taken to look only to compensation, and to be
modelled on the natural working of self-redress. /4/ The
principle of our own law, that taking a man's body on execution
satisfies the debt, although he is not detained an hour, seems to
be explained in that way. But the right to put to death looks
like vengeance, and the division of the body shows that the debt
was conceived very literally to inhere in or bind the body with a
vinculum juris.

Whatever may be the true explanation of surrender in connection
with contracts, for the present purpose we need not go further
than the common case of noxoe deditio for wrongs. Neither is the
seeming adhesion of liability to the very body which did the harm
of the first importance. [15] The Roman law dealt mainly with
living creatures,--with animals and slaves. If a man was run
over, it did not surrender the wagon which crushed him, but the
ox which drew the wagon. /1/ At this stage the notion is easy to
understand. The desire for vengeance may be felt as strongly
against a slave as against a freeman, and it is not without
example nowadays that a like passion should be felt against an
animal. The surrender of the slave or beast empowered the injured
party to do his will upon them. Payment by the owner was merely a
privilege in case he wanted to buy the vengeance off.

It will readily be imagined that such a system as has been
described could not last when civilization had advanced to any
considerable height. What had been the privilege of buying off
vengeance by agreement, of paying the damage instead of
surrendering the body of the offender, no doubt became a general
custom. The Aquilian law, passed about a couple of centuries
later than the date of the Twelve Tables, enlarged the sphere of
compensation for bodily injuries. Interpretation enlarged the
Aquilian law. Masters became personally liable for certain wrongs
committed by their slaves with their knowledge, where previously
they were only bound to surrender the slave. /2/ If a pack-mule
threw off his burden upon a passer-by because he had been
improperly overloaded, or a dog which might have been restrained
escaped from his master and bit any one, the old noxal action, as
it was called, gave way to an action under the new law to enforce
a general personal liability. /3/ Still later, ship-owners and
innkeepers were made liable [16] as if they were wrong-doers for
wrongs committed by those in their employ on board ship or in the
tavern, although of course committed without their knowledge. The
true reason for this exceptional responsibility was the
exceptional confidence which was necessarily reposed in carriers
and innkeepers. /1/ But some of the jurists, who regarded the
surrender of children and slaves as a privilege intended to limit
liability, explained this new liability on the ground that the
innkeeper or ship-owner was to a certain degree guilty of
negligence in having employed the services of bad men? This was
the first instance of a master being made unconditionally liable
for the wrongs of his servant. The reason given for it was of
general application, and the principle expanded to the scope of
the reason.

The law as to ship-owners and innkeepers introduced another and
more startling innovation. It made them responsible when those
whom they employed were free, as well as when they were slaves.
/3/ For the first time one man was made answerable for the wrongs
of another who was also answerable himself, and who had a
standing before the law. This was a great change from the bare
permission to ransom one's slave as a privilege. But here we have
the history of the whole modern doctrine of master and servant,
and principal and agent. All servants are now as free and as
liable to a suit as their masters. Yet the principle introduced
on special grounds in a special case, when servants were slaves,
is now the general law of this country and England, and under it
men daily have to pay large sums for other people's acts, in
which they had no part and [17] for which they are in no sense to
blame. And to this day the reason offered by the Roman jurists
for an exceptional rule is made to justify this universal and
unlimited responsibility. /1/

So much for one of the parents of our common law. Now let us turn
for a moment to the Teutonic side. The Salic Law embodies usages
which in all probability are of too early a date to have been
influenced either by Rome or the Old Testament. The thirty-sixth
chapter of the ancient text provides that, if a man is killed by
a domestic animal, the owner of the animal shall pay half the
composition (which he would have had to pay to buy off the blood
feud had he killed the man himself), and for the other half give
up the beast to the complainant. /2/ So, by chapter thirty-five,
if a slave killed a freeman, he was to be surrendered for one
half of the composition to the relatives of the slain man, and
the master was to pay the other half. But according to the gloss,
if the slave or his master had been maltreated by the slain man
or his relatives, the master had only to surrender the slave. /3/
It is interesting to notice that those Northern sources which
Wilda takes to represent a more primitive stage of German law
confine liability for animals to surrender alone. /4/ There is
also a trace of the master's having been able to free himself in
some cases, at a later date, by showing that the slave was no
longer in [18] his possession. /1/ There are later provisions
making a master liable for the wrongs committed by his slave by
his command. /2/ In the laws adapted by the Thuringians from the
earlier sources, it is provided in terms that the master is to
pay for all damage done by his slaves. /4/

In short, so far as I am able to trace the order of development
in the customs of the German tribes, it seems to have been
entirely similar to that which we have already followed in the
growth of Roman law. The earlier liability for slaves and animals
was mainly confined to surrender; the later became personal, as
at Rome.

The reader may begin to ask for the proof that all this has any
bearing on our law of today. So far as concerns the influence of
the Roman law upon our own, especially the Roman law of master
and servant, the evidence of it is to be found in every book
which has been written for the last five hundred years. It has
been stated already that we still repeat the reasoning of the
Roman lawyers, empty as it is, to the present day. It will be
seen directly whether the German folk-laws can also be followed
into England.

In the Kentish laws of Hlothhaere and Eadrie (A.D. 680) [19] it
is said, "If any one's slave slay a freeman, whoever it be, let
the owner pay with a hundred shillings, give up the slayer," &c.
/1/ There are several other similar provisions. In the nearly
contemporaneous laws of Ine, the surrender and payment are simple
alternatives. "If a Wessex slave slay an Englishman, then shall
he who owns him deliver him up to the lord and the kindred, or
give sixty shillings for his life." /2/ Alfred's laws (A.D.
871-901) have a like provision as to cattle. "If a neat wound a
man, let the neat be delivered up or compounded for." /3/ And
Alfred, although two hundred years later than the first English
lawgivers who have been quoted, seems to have gone back to more
primitive notions than we find before his time. For the same
principle is extended to the case of a tree by which a man is
killed. "If, at their common work, one man slay another
unwilfully, let the tree be given to the kindred, and let them
have it off the land within thirty nights. Or let him take
possession of it who owns the wood." /4/

It is not inapposite to compare what Mr. Tylor has mentioned
concerning the rude Kukis of Southern Asia. "If a tiger killed a
Kuki, his family were in disgrace till they had retaliated by
killing and eating this tiger, or another; but further, if a man
was killed by a fall from a tree, his relatives would take their
revenge by cutting the tree down, and scattering it in chips."
/5/

To return to the English, the later laws, from about a hundred
years after Alfred down to the collection known as the laws of
Henry I, compiled long after the Conquest, [20] increase the
lord's liability for his household, and make him surety for his
men's good conduct. If they incur a fine to the king and run
away, the lord has to pay it unless he can clear himself of
complicity. But I cannot say that I find until a later period the
unlimited liability of master for servant which was worked out on
the Continent, both by the German tribes and at Rome. Whether the
principle when established was an indigenous growth, or whether
the last step was taken under the influence of the Roman law, of
which Bracton made great use, I cannot say. It is enough that the
soil was ready for it, and that it took root at an early day. /1/
This is all that need be said here with regard to the liability
of a master for the misdeeds of his servants.

It is next to be shown what became of the principle as applied to
animals. Nowadays a man is bound at his peril to keep his cattle
from trespassing, and he is liable for damage done by his dog or
by any fierce animal, if he has notice of a tendency in the brute
to do the harm complained of. The question is whether any
connection can be established between these very sensible and
intelligible rules of modern law and the surrender directed by
King Alfred.

Let us turn to one of the old books of the Scotch law, where the
old principle still appears in full force and is stated with its
reasons as then understood, /2/

"Gif ane wylde or head-strang horse, carries ane man [21] against
his will over an craig, or heuch, or to the water, and the man
happin to drowne, the horse sall perteine to the king as escheit.

"Bot it is otherwise of ane tame and dantoned horse; gif any man
fulishlie rides, and be sharp spurres compelles his horse to take
the water, and the man drownes, the horse sould not be escheit,
for that comes be the mans fault or trespasse, and not of the
horse, and the man has receaved his punishment, in sa farre as he
is perished and dead; and the horse quha did na fault, sould not
be escheit.

"The like reason is of all other beastes, quhilk slayes anie man,
[it is added in a later work, "of the quhilk slaughter they haue
gilt,"] for all these beasts sould be escheit." /1/

"The Forme and Maner of Baron Courts" continues as follows:--

"It is to witt, that this question is asked in the law, Gif ane
lord hes ane milne, and any man fall in the damne, and be borne
down with the water quhill he comes to the quheill, and there be
slaine to death with the quheill; quhither aught the milne to be
eseheir or not? The law sayes thereto nay, and be this reason,
For it is ane dead thing, and ane dead thing may do na fellony,
nor be made escheit throw their gilt. Swa the milne in this case
is not culpable, and in the law it is lawfull to the lord of the
land to haue ane mylne on his awin water quhere best likes him."
/2/

The reader will see in this passage, as has been remarked already
of the Roman law, that a distinction is taken between things
which are capable of guilt and those which [22] are not,--between
living and dead things; but he will also see that no difficulty
was felt in treating animals as guilty.

Take next an early passage of the English law, a report of what
was laid down by one of the English judges. In 1333 it was stated
for law, that, "if my dog kills your sheep, and I, freshly after
the fact, tender you the dog, you are without recovery against
me." /1/ More than three centuries later, in 1676, it was said
by Twisden, J. that, "if one hath kept a tame fox, which gets
loose and grows wild, he that hath kept him before shall not
answer for the damage the fox doth after he hath lost him, and he
hath resumed his wild nature." /2/ It is at least doubtful
whether that sentence ever would have been written but for the
lingering influence of the notion that the ground of the owner's
liability was his ownership of the offending: thing and his
failure to surrender it. When the fox escaped, by another
principle of law the ownership was at an end. In fact, that very
consideration was seriously pressed in England as late as 1846,
with regard to a monkey which escaped and bit the plaintiff, /3/
So it seems to be a reasonable conjecture, that it was this way
of thinking which led Lord Holt, near the beginning of the last
century, to intimate that one ground on which a man is bound at
his peril to restrain cattle from trespassing is that he has
valuable property in such animals, whereas he has not dogs, for
which his responsibility is less. /4/ To this day, in fact,
cautious judges state the law as to cattle to be, that, "if I am
the owner of an animal in which by law the [23] right of property
can exist, I am bound to take care that it does not stray into
the land of my neighbor." /1/

I do not mean that our modern law on this subject is only a
survival, and that the only change from primitive notions was to
substitute the owner for the offending animal. For although it is
probable that the early law was one of the causes which led to
the modern doctrine, there has been too much good sense in every
stage of our law to adopt any such sweeping consequences as would
follow from the wholesale transfer of liability supposed. An
owner is not bound at his peril to keep his cattle from harming
his neighbor's person. /2/ And in some of the earliest instances
of personal liability, even for trespass on a neighbor's land,
the ground seems to have been the owner's negligence. /3/

It is the nature of those animals which the common law recognizes
as the subject of ownership to stray, and when straying to do
damage by trampling down and eating crops. At the same time it is
usual and easy to restrain them. On the other hand, a dog, which
is not the subject of property, does no harm by simply crossing
the land of others than its owner. Hence to this extent the new
law might have followed the old. The right of property in the
[24] offending animal, which was the ancient ground of
responsibility, might have been adopted safely enough as the test
of a liability based on the fault of the owner. But the
responsibility for damage of a kind not to be expected from such
animals is determined on grounds of policy comparatively little
disturbed by tradition. The development of personal liability for
fierce wild animals at Rome has been explained. Our law seems to
have followed the Roman.

We will now follow the history of that branch of the primitive
notion which was least likely to survive,--the liability of
inanimate things.

It will be remembered that King Alfred ordained the surrender of
a tree, but that the later Scotch law refused it because a dead
thing could not have guilt. It will be remembered, also, that the
animals which the Scotch law forfeited were escheat to the king.
The same thing has remained true in England until well into this
century, with regard even to inanimate objects. As long ago as
Bracton, /1/ in case a man was slain, the coroner was to value
the object causing the death, and that was to be forfeited sa
deodand "pro rege." It was to be given to God, that is to say to
the Church, for the king, to be expended for the good of his
soul. A man's death had ceased to be the private affair of his
friends as in the time of the barbarian folk-laws. The king, who
furnished the court, now sued for the penalty. He supplanted the
family in the claim on the guilty thing, and the Church
supplanted him.

In Edward the First's time some of the cases remind of the
barbarian laws at their rudest stage. If a man fell from a tree,
the tree was deodand. /2/ If he drowned in a [25] well, the well
was to be filled up. /1/ It did not matter that the forfeited
instrument belonged to an innocent person. "Where a man killeth
another with the sword of John at Stile, the sword shall be
forfeit as deodand, and yet no default is in the owner." /2/ That
is from a book written in the reign of Henry VIII., about 1530.
And it has been repeated from Queen Elizabeth's time /3/ to
within one hundred years, /4/ that if my horse strikes a man, and
afterwards I sell my horse, and after that the man dies, the
horse shall be forfeited. Hence it is, that, in all indictments
for homicide, until very lately it has been necessary to state
the instrument causing the death and its value, as that the
stroke was given by a certain penknife, value sixpence, so as to
secure the forfeiture. It is said that a steam-engine has been
forfeited in this way.

I now come to what I regard as the most remarkable transformation
of this principle, and one which is a most important factor in
our law as it is today. I must for the moment leave the common
law and take up the doctrines of the Admiralty. In the early
books which have just been referred to, and long afterwards, the
fact of motion is adverted to as of much importance. A maxim of
Henry Spigurnel, a judge in the time of Edward I., is reported,
that "where a man is killed by a cart, or by the fall of a house,
or in other like manner, and the thing in motion is the cause of
the death, it shall be deodand." /5/ So it was [26] said in the
next reign that "oinne illud quod mover cum eo quod occidit
homines deodandum domino Regi erit, vel feodo clerici." /1/ The
reader sees how motion gives life to the object forfeited.

The most striking example of this sort is a ship. And accordingly
the old books say that, if a man falls from a ship and is
drowned, the motion of the ship must be taken to cause the death,
and the ship is forfeited,--provided, however, that this
happens in fresh water. /2/ For if the death took place on the
high seas, that was outside the ordinary jurisdiction. This
proviso has been supposed to mean that ships at sea were not
forfeited; /3/ but there is a long series of petitions to the
king in Parliament that such forfeitures may be done away with,
which tell a different story. /4/ The truth seems to be that the
forfeiture took place, but in a different court. A manuscript of
the reign of Henry VI., only recently printed, discloses the fact
that, if a man was killed or drowned at sea by the motion of the
ship, the vessel was forfeited to the admiral upon a proceeding
in the admiral's court, and subject to release by favor of the
admiral or the king. /5/

A ship is the most living of inanimate things. Servants sometimes
say "she" of a clock, but every one gives a gender to vessels.
And we need not be surprised, therefore, to find a mode of
dealing which has shown such extraordinary vitality in the
criminal law applied with even more striking thoroughness in the
Admiralty. It is only by supposing [27] the ship to have been
treated as if endowed with personality, that the arbitrary
seeming peculiarities of the maritime law can be made
intelligible, and on that supposition they at once become
consistent and logical.

By way of seeing what those peculiarities are, take first a case
of collision at sea. A collision takes place between two vessels,
the Ticonderoga and the Melampus, through the fault of the
Ticonderoga alone. That ship is under a lease at the time, the
lessee has his own master in charge, and the owner of the vessel
has no manner of control over it. The owner, therefore, is not to
blame, and he cannot even be charged on the ground that the
damage was done by his servants. He is free from personal
liability on elementary principles. Yet it is perfectly settled
that there is a lien on his vessel for the amount of the damage
done, /1/ and this means that that vessel may be arrested and
sold to pay the loss in any admiralty court whose process will
reach her. If a livery-stable keeper lets a horse and wagon to a
customer, who runs a man down by careless driving, no one would
think of claiming a right to seize the horse and wagon. It would
be seen that the only property which could be sold to pay for a
wrong was the property of the wrong-doer.

But, again, suppose that the vessel, instead of being under
lease, is in charge of a pilot whose employment is made
compulsory by the laws of the port which she is just entering.
The Supreme Court of the United States holds the ship liable in
this instance also. /2/ The English courts would probably have
decided otherwise, and the matter is settled in England by
legislation. But there the court of appeal, the Privy Council,
has been largely composed of common-law [28]lawyers, and it has
shown a marked tendency to assimilate common-law doctrine. At
common law one who could not impose a personal liability on the
owner could not bind a particular chattel to answer for a wrong
of which it had been the instrument. But our Supreme Court has
long recognized that a person may bind a ship, when he could not
bind the owners personally, because he was not the agent.

It may be admitted that, if this doctrine were not supported by
an appearance of good sense, it would not have survived. The ship
is the only security available in dealing with foreigners, and
rather than send one's own citizens to search for a remedy abroad
in strange courts, it is easy to seize the vessel and satisfy the
claim at home, leaving the foreign owners to get their indemnity
as they may be able. I dare say some such thought has helped to
keep the practice alive, but I believe the true historic
foundation is elsewhere. The ship no doubt, like a sword would
have been forfeited for causing death, in whosesoever hands it
might have been. So, if the master and mariners of a ship,
furnished with letters of reprisal, committed piracy against a
friend of the king, the owner lost his ship by the admiralty law,
although the crime was committed without his knowledge or assent.
/2/ It seems most likely that the principle by which the ship was
forfeited to the king for causing death, or for piracy, was the
same as that by which it was bound to private sufferers for other
damage, in whose hands soever it might have been when it did the
harm.

If we should say to an uneducated man today, "She did it and she
ought to pay for it," it may be doubted [29] whether he would see
the fallacy, or be ready to explain that the ship was only
property, and that to say, "The ship has to pay for it," /1/ was
simply a dramatic way of saying that somebody's property was to
be sold, and the proceeds applied to pay for a wrong committed by
somebody else.

It would seem that a similar form of words has been enough to
satisfy the minds of great lawyers. The following is a passage
from a judgment by Chief Justice Marshall, which is quoted with
approval by Judge Story in giving the opinion of the Supreme
Court of the United States: "This is not a proceeding against the
owner; it is a proceeding against the vessel for an offence
committed by the vessel; which is not the less an offence, and
does not the less subject her to forfeiture, because it was
committed without the authority and against the will of the
owner. It is true that inanimate matter can commit no offence.
But this body is animated and put in action by the crew, who are
guided by the master. The vessel acts and speaks by the master.
She reports herself by the master. It is, therefore, not
unreasonable that the vessel should be affected by this report."
And again Judge Story quotes from another case: "The thing is
here primarily considered as the offender, or rather the offence
is primarily attached to the thing." /2/

In other words, those great judges, although of course aware that
a ship is no more alive than a mill-wheel, thought that not only
the law did in fact deal with it as if it were alive, but that it
was reasonable that the law should do so. The reader will observe
that they do not say simply that it is reasonable on grounds of
policy to [30] sacrifice justice to the owner to security for
somebody else but that it is reasonable to deal with the vessel
as an offending thing. Whatever the hidden ground of policy may
be, their thought still clothes itself in personifying language.

Let us now go on to follow the peculiarities of the maritime law
in other directions. For the cases which have been stated are
only parts of a larger whole.

By the maritime law of the Middle Ages the ship was not only the
source, but the limit, of liability. The rule already prevailed,
which has been borrowed and adopted by the English statutes and
by our own act of Congress of 1851, according to which the owner
is discharged from responsibility for wrongful acts of a master
appointed by himself upon surrendering his interest in the vessel
and the freight which she had earned. By the doctrines of agency
he would be personally liable for the whole damage. If the origin
of the system of limited liability which is believed to be so
essential to modern commerce is to be attributed to those
considerations of public policy on which it would now be
sustained, that system has nothing to do with the law of
collision. But if the limit of liability here stands on the same
ground as the noxoe deditio, confirms the explanation already
given of the liability of the ship for wrongs done by it while
out of the owner's hands, and conversely existence of that
liability confirms the argument here.

Let us now take another rule, for which, as usual, there is a
plausible explanation of policy. Freight, it is said, the mother
of wages; for, we are told, "if the ship perished, [31] if the
mariners were to have their wages in such cases, they would not
use their endeavors, nor hazard their lives, for the safety of
the ship." /1/ The best commentary on this reasoning is, that the
law has recently been changed by statute. But even by the old law
there was an exception inconsistent with the supposed reason. In
case of shipwreck, which was the usual case of a failure to earn
freight, so long as any portion of the ship was saved, the lien
of the mariners remained. I suppose it would have been said,
because it was sound policy to encourage them to save all they
could. If we consider that the sailors were regarded as employed
by the ship, we shall understand very readily both the rule and
the exception. "The ship is the debtor," as was said in arguing a
case decided in the time of William III. /2/ If the debtor
perished, there was an end of the matter. If a part came ashore,
that might be proceeded against.

Even the rule in its modern form, that freight is the mother of
wages, is shown by the explanation commonly given to have
reference to the question whether the ship is lost or arrive
safe. In the most ancient source of the maritime law now extant,
which has anything about the matter, so far as I have been able
to discover, the statement is that the mariners will lose their
wages when the ship is lost. /3/ In like manner, in what is said
by its English [32] editor, Sir Travers Twiss, to be the oldest
part of the Consulate of the Sea, /1/ we read that "whoever the
freighter may be who runs away or dies, the ship is bound to pay:
the mariners." /2/ I think we may assume that the vessel was
bound by the contract with the sailors, much in the same way as
it was by the wrongs for which it was answerable, just as the
debtor's body was answerable for his debts, as well as for his
crimes, under the ancient law of Rome.

The same thing is true of other maritime dealings with the
vessel, whether by way of contract or otherwise. If salvage
service is rendered to a vessel, the admiralty court will hold
the vessel, although it has been doubted whether an action of
contract would lie, if the owners were sued at law. So the ship
is bound by the master's contract to carry cargo, just as in case
of collision, although she was under lease at the time. In such
cases, also, according to our Supreme Court, the master may bind
the vessel when he cannot bind the general owners. /4/ "By custom
the ship is bound to the merchandise, and the merchandise to the
ship." /5/ "By the maritime law every contract of the master
implies an hypothecation." /6/ It might be urged, no doubt, with
force, that, so far as the usual maritime contracts are
concerned, the dealing must be on the security of the ship or
merchandise in many cases, and therefore [33] that it is policy
to give this security in all cases; that the risk to which it
subjects ship-owners is calculable, and that they must take it
into account when they let their vessels. Again, in many cases,
when a party asserts a maritime lien by way of contract, he has
improved the condition of the thing upon which the lien is
claimed, and this has been recognized as a ground for such a lien
in some systems. But this is not true universally, nor in the
most important cases. It must be left to the reader to decide
whether ground has not been shown for believing that the same
metaphysical confusion which naturally arose as to the ship's
wrongful acts, affected the way of thinking as to her contracts.
The whole manner of dealing with vessels obviously took the form
which prevailed in the eases first mentioned. Pardessus, a high
authority, says that the lien for freight prevails even against
the owner of stolen goods, "as the master deals less with the
person than the thing." /2/ So it was said in the argument of a
famous English case, that "the ship is instead of the owner, and
therefore is answerable." /3/ In many cases of contract, as well
as tort, the vessel was not only the security for the debt, but
the limit of the owner's liability.

The principles of the admiralty are embodied in its form of
procedure. A suit may be brought there against a vessel by name,
any person interested in it being at liberty to come in and
defend, but the suit, if successful, ending in a sale of the
vessel and a payment of the plaintiff's claim out of the
proceeds. As long ago as the time of James I. it was said that
"the libel ought to be only [34] against the ship and goods, and
not against the party." /1/ And authority for the statement was
cited from the reign of Henry VI., the same reign when, as we
have seen, the Admiral claimed a forfeiture of ships for causing
death. I am bound to say, however, that I cannot find such an
authority of that date.

We have now followed the development of the chief forms of
liability in modern law for anything other than the immediate and
manifest consequences of a man's own acts. We have seen the
parallel course of events in the two parents,--the Roman law and
the German customs, and in the offspring of those two on English
soil with regard to servants, animals, and inanimate things. We
have seen a single germ multiplying and branching into products
as different from each other as the flower from the root. It
hardly remains to ask what that germ was. We have seen that it
was the desire of retaliation against the offending thing itself.
Undoubtedly, it might be argued that many of the rules stated
were derived from a seizure of the offending thing as security
for reparation, at first, perhaps, outside the law. That
explanation, as well as the one offered here; would show that
modern views of responsibility had not yet been attained, as the
owner of the thing might very well not have been the person in
fault. But such has not been the view of those most competent to
judge. A consideration of the earliest instances will show, as
might have been expected, that vengeance, not compensation, and
vengeance on the offending thing, was the original object. The ox
in Exodus was to be stoned. The axe in the Athenian law was to be
banished. The tree, in Mr. Tylor's instance, was to be chopped to
pieces. The [35] slave under all the systems was to be
surrendered to the relatives of the slain man, that they might do
with him what they liked. /1/ The deodand was an accursed thing.
The original limitation of liability to surrender, when the owner
was before the court, could not be accounted for if it was his
liability, and not that of his property, which was in question.
Even where, as in some of the cases, expiation seems to be
intended rather than vengeance, the object is equally remote from
an extrajudicial distress.

The foregoing history, apart from the purposes for which it has
been given, well illustrates the paradox of form and substance in
the development of law. In form its growth is logical. The
official theory is that each new decision follows syllogistically
from existing precedents. But just as the clavicle in the cat
only tells of the existence of some earlier creature to which a
collar-bone was useful, precedents survive in the law long after
the use they once served is at an end and the reason for them has
been forgotten. The result of following them must often be
failure and confusion from the merely logical point of view.

On the other hand, in substance the growth of the law is
legislative. And this in a deeper sense than that what the courts
declare to have always been the law is in fact new. It is
legislative in its grounds. The very considerations which judges
most rarely mention, and always with an apology, are the secret
root from which the law draws all the juices of life. I mean, of
course, considerations of what is expedient for the community
concerned. Every important principle which is developed by
litigation is in fact and at bottom the result of more or less
definitely understood views of public policy; most generally, to
be sure, [36] under our practice and traditions, the unconscious
result of instinctive preferences and inarticulate convictions,
but none the less traceable to views of public policy in the last
analysis. And as the law is administered by able and experienced
men, who know too much to sacrifice good sense to a syllogism, it
will be found that, when ancient rules maintain themselves in the
way that has been and will be shown in this book, new reasons
more fitted to the time have been found for them, and that they
gradually receive a new content, and at last a new form, from the
grounds to which they have been transplanted.

But hitherto this process has been largely unconscious. It is
important, on that account, to bring to mind what the actual
course of events has been. If it were only to insist on a more
conscious recognition of the legislative function of the courts,
as just explained, it would be useful, as we shall see more
clearly further on. /1/

What has been said will explain the failure of all theories which
consider the law only from its formal side; whether they attempt
to deduce the corpus from a priori postulates, or fall into the
humbler error of supposing the science of the law to reside in
the elegantia juris, or logical cohesion of part with part. The
truth is, that the law always approaching, and never reaching,
consistency. It is forever adopting new principles from life at
one end, and it always retains old ones from history at the
other, which have not yet been absorbed or sloughed off. It
will become entirely consistent only when it ceases to grow.

The study upon which we have been engaged is necessary both for
the knowledge and for the revision of the law. [37] However much
we may codify the law into a series of seemingly self-sufficient
propositions, those propositions will be but a phase in a
continuous growth. To understand their scope fully, to know how
they will be dealt with by judges trained in the past which the
law embodies, we must ourselves know something of that past. The
history of what the law has been is necessary to the knowledge of
what the law is.

Again, the process which I have described has involved the
attempt to follow precedents, as well as to give a good reason
for them. When we find that in large and important branches of
the law the various grounds of policy on which the various rules
have been justified are later inventions to account for what are
in fact survivals from more primitive times, we have a right to
reconsider the popular reasons, and, taking a broader view of the
field, to decide anew whether those reasons are satisfactory.
They may be, notwithstanding the manner of their appearance. If
truth were not often suggested by error, if old implements could
not be adjusted to new uses, human progress would be slow. But
scrutiny and revision are justified.

But none of the foregoing considerations, nor the purpose of
showing the materials for anthropology contained in the history
of the law, are the immediate object here. My aim and purpose
have been to show that the various forms of liability known to
modern law spring from the common ground of revenge. In the
sphere of contract the fact will hardly be material outside the
cases which have been stated in this Lecture. But in the criminal
law and the law of torts it is of the first importance. It shows
that they have started from a moral basis, from the thought that
some one was to blame.

[38] It remains to be proved that, while the terminology of
morals is still retained, and while the law does still and
always, in a certain sense, measure legal liability by moral
standards, it nevertheless, by the very necessity of its nature,
is continually transmuting those moral standards into external or
objective ones, from which the actual guilt of the party
concerned is wholly eliminated.


[39]




LECTURE II. -- THE CRIMINAL LAW.

In the beginning of the first Lecture it was shown that the
appeals of the early law were directed only to intentional
wrongs. The appeal was a far older form of procedure than the
indictment, and may be said to have had a criminal as well as a
civil aspect. It had the double object of satisfying the private
party for his loss, and the king for the breach of his peace. On
its civil side it was rooted in vengeance. It was a proceeding to
recover those compositions, at first optional, afterwards
compulsory, by which a wrong-doer bought the spear from his side.
Whether, so far as concerned the king, it had the same object of
vengeance, or was more particularly directed to revenue, does not
matter, since the claim of the king did not enlarge the scope of
the action.

It would seem to be a fair inference that indictable offences
were originally limited in the same way as those which gave rise
to an appeal. For whether the indictment arose by a splitting up
of the appeal, or in some other way, the two were closely
connected.

An acquittal of the appellee on the merits was a bar to an
indictment; and, on the other hand, when an appeal was fairly
started, although the appellor might fail to prosecute, or might
be defeated by plea, the cause might still be proceeded with on
behalf of the king. /1/

[40] The presentment, which is the other parent of our criminal
procedure, had an origin distinct from the appeal. If, as has
been thought, it was merely the successor of fresh suit and lynch
law, /1/ this also is the child of vengeance, even more clearly
than the other.

The desire for vengeance imports an opinion that its object is
actually and personally to blame. It takes an internal standard,
not an objective or external one, and condemns its victim by
that. The question is whether such a standard is still accepted
either in this primitive form, or in some more refined
development, as is commonly supposed, and as seems not
impossible, considering the relative slowness with which the
criminal law has improved.

It certainly may be argued, with some force, that it has never
ceased to be one object of punishment to satisfy the desire for
vengeance. The argument will be made plain by considering those
instances in which, for one reason or another, compensation for a
wrong is out of the question.

Thus an act may be of such a kind as to make indemnity impossible
by putting an end to the principal sufferer, as in the case of
murder or manslaughter.

Again, these and other crimes, like forgery, although directed
against an individual, tend to make others feel unsafe, and this
general insecurity does not admit of being paid for.

Again, there are cases where there are no means of enforcing
indemnity. In Macaulay's draft of the Indian Penal Code, breaches
of contract for the carriage of passengers, were made criminal.
The palanquin-bearers of India were too poor to pay damages, and
yet had to be [41] trusted to carry unprotected women and
children through wild and desolate tracts, where their desertion
would have placed those under their charge in great danger.

In all these cases punishment remains as an alternative. A pain
can be inflicted upon the wrong-doer, of a sort which does not
restore the injured party to his former situation, or to another
equally good, but which is inflicted for the very purpose of
causing pain. And so far as this punishment takes the place of
compensation, whether on account of the death of the person to
whom the wrong was done, the indefinite number of persons
affected, the impossibility of estimating the worth of the
suffering in money, or the poverty of the criminal, it may be
said that one of its objects is to gratify the desire for
vengeance. The prisoner pays with his body.

The statement may be made stronger still, and it may be said, not
only that the law does, but that it ought to, make the
gratification of revenge an object. This is the opinion, at any
rate, of two authorities so great, and so opposed in other views,
as Bishop Butler and Jeremy Bentham. /1/ Sir James Stephen says,
"The criminal law stands to the passion of revenge in much the
same relation as marriage to the sexual appetite." /2/

The first requirement of a sound body of law is, that it should
correspond with the actual feelings and demands of the community,
whether right or wrong. If people would gratify the passion of
revenge outside of the law, if the law did not help them, the law
has no choice but to satisfy the craving itself, and thus avoid
the greater evil of private [42] retribution. At the same time,
this passion is not one which we encourage, either as private
individuals or as lawmakers. Moreover, it does not cover the
whole ground. There are crimes which do not excite it, and we
should naturally expect that the most important purposes of
punishment would be coextensive with the whole field of its
application. It remains to be discovered whether such a general
purpose exists, and if so what it is. Different theories still
divide opinion upon the subject.

It has been thought that the purpose of punishment is to reform
the criminal; that it is to deter the criminal and others from
committing similar crimes; and that it is retribution. Few would
now maintain that the first of these purposes was the only one.
If it were, every prisoner should be released as soon as it
appears clear that he will never repeat his offence, and if he is
incurable he should not be punished at all. Of course it would be
hard to reconcile the punishment of death with this doctrine.

The main struggle lies between the other two. On the one side is
the notion that there is a mystic bond between wrong and
punishment; on the other, that the infliction of pain is only a
means to an end. Hegel, one of the great expounders of the former
view, puts it, in his quasi mathematical form, that, wrong being
the negation of right, punishment is the negation of that
negation, or retribution. Thus the punishment must be equal, in
the sense of proportionate to the crime, because its only
function is to destroy it. Others, without this logical
apparatus, are content to rely upon a felt necessity that
suffering should follow wrong-doing.

It is objected that the preventive theory is immoral, because it
overlooks the ill-desert of wrong-doing, and furnishes [43] no
measure of the amount of punishment, except the lawgiver's
subjective opinion in regard to the sufficiency of the amount of
preventive suffering. /1/ In the language of Kant, it treats man
as a thing, not as a person; as a means, not as an end in
himself. It is said to conflict with the sense of justice, and to
violate the fundamental principle of all free communities, that
the members of such communities have equal rights to life,
liberty, and personal security. /2/

In spite of all this, probably most English-speaking lawyers
would accept the preventive theory without hesitation. As to the
violation of equal rights which is charged, it may be replied
that the dogma of equality makes an equation between individuals
only, not between an individual and the community. No society has
ever admitted that it could not sacrifice individual welfare to
its own existence. If conscripts are necessary for its army, it
seizes them, and marches them, with bayonets in their rear, to
death. It runs highways and railroads through old family places
in spite of the owner's protest, paying in this instance the
market value, to be sure, because no civilized government
sacrifices the citizen more than it can help, but still
sacrificing his will and his welfare to that of the rest. /3/

If it were necessary to trench further upon the field of morals,
it might be suggested that the dogma of equality applied even to
individuals only within the limits of ordinary dealings in the
common run of affairs. You cannot argue with your neighbor,
except on the admission for the [44] moment that he is as wise as
you, although you may by no means believe it. In the same way,
you cannot deal with him, where both are free to choose, except
on the footing of equal treatment, and the same rules for both.
The ever-growing value set upon peace and the social relations
tends to give the law of social being the appearance of the law
of all being. But it seems to me clear that the ultima ratio, not
only regum, but of private persons, is force, and that at the
bottom of all private relations, however tempered by sympathy and
all the social feelings, is a justifiable self-preference. If a
man is on a plank in the deep sea which will only float one, and
a stranger lays hold of it, he will thrust him off if he can.
When the state finds itself in a similar position, it does the
same thing.

The considerations which answer the argument of equal rights also
answer the objections to treating man as a thing, and the like.
If a man lives in society, he is liable to find himself so
treated. The degree of civilization which a people has reached,
no doubt, is marked by their anxiety to do as they would be done
by. It may be the destiny of man that the social instincts shall
grow to control his actions absolutely, even in anti-social
situations. But they have not yet done so, and as the rules of
law are or should be based upon a morality which is generally
accepted, no rule founded on a theory of absolute unselfishness
can be laid down without a breach between law and working
beliefs.

If it be true, as I shall presently try to show, that the general
principles of criminal and civil liability are the same, it will
follow from that alone that theory and fact agree in frequently
punishing those who have been guilty [45] of no moral wrong, and
who could not be condemned by any standard that did not avowedly
disregard the personal peculiarities of the individuals
concerned. If punishment stood on the moral grounds which are
proposed for it, the first thing to be considered would be those
limitations in the capacity for choosing rightly which arise from
abnormal instincts, want of education, lack of intelligence, and
all the other defects which are most marked in the criminal
classes. I do not say that they should not be, or at least I do
not need to for my argument. I do not say that the criminal law
does more good than harm. I only say that it is not enacted or
administered on that theory.

There remains to be mentioned the affirmative argument in favor
of the theory of retribution, to the effect that the fitness of
punishment following wrong-doing is axiomatic, and is
instinctively recognized by unperverted minds. I think that it
will be seen, on self-inspection, that this feeling of fitness is
absolute and unconditional only in the case of our neighbors. It
does not seem to me that any one who has satisfied himself that
an act of his was wrong, and that he will never do it again,
would feel the least need or propriety, as between himself and an
earthly punishing power alone, of his being made to suffer for
what he had done, although, when third persons were introduced,
he might, as a philosopher, admit the necessity of hurting him to
frighten others. But when our neighbors do wrong, we sometimes
feel the fitness of making them smart for it, whether they have
repented or not. The feeling of fitness seems to me to be only
vengeance in disguise, and I have already admitted that vengeance
was an element, though not the chief element, of punishment.

[46] But, again, the supposed intuition of fitness does not seem
to me to be coextensive with the thing to be accounted for. The
lesser punishments are just as fit for the lesser crimes as the
greater for the greater. The demand that crime should be followed
by its punishment should therefore be equal and absolute in both.
Again, a malum prohibitum is just as much a crime as a malum in
se. If there is any general ground for punishment, it must apply
to one case as much as to the other. But it will hardly be said
that, if the wrong in the case just supposed consisted of a
breach of the revenue laws, and the government had been
indemnified for the loss, we should feel any internal necessity
that a man who had thoroughly repented of his wrong should be
punished for it, except on the ground that his act was known to
others. If it was known, the law would have to verify its threats
in order that others might believe and tremble. But if the fact
was a secret between the sovereign and the subject, the
sovereign, if wholly free from passion, would undoubtedly see
that punishment in such a case was wholly without justification.

On the other hand, there can be no case in which the law-maker
makes certain conduct criminal without his thereby showing a wish
and purpose to prevent that conduct. Prevention would accordingly
seem to be the chief and only universal purpose of punishment.
The law threatens certain pains if you do certain things,
intending thereby to give you a new motive for not doing them. If
you persist in doing them, it has to inflict the pains in order
that its threats may continue to be believed.

If this is a true account of the law as it stands, the law does
undoubtedly treat the individual as a means to an [47] end, and
uses him as a tool to increase the general welfare at his own
expense. It has been suggested above, that this course is
perfectly proper; but even if it is wrong, our criminal law
follows it, and the theory of our criminal law must be shaped
accordingly.

Further evidence that our law exceeds the limits of retribution,
and subordinates consideration of the individual to that of the
public well-being, will be found in some doctrines which cannot
be satisfactorily explained on any other ground.

The first of these is, that even the deliberate taking of life
will not be punished when it is the only way of saving one's own.
This principle is not so clearly established as that next to be
mentioned; but it has the support of very great authority. /1/ If
that is the law, it must go on one of two grounds, either that
self-preference is proper in the case supposed, or that, even if
it is improper, the law cannot prevent it by punishment, because
a threat of death at some future time can never be a sufficiently
powerful motive to make a man choose death now in order to avoid
the threat. If the former ground is adopted, it admits that a
single person may sacrifice another to himself, and a fortiori
that a people may. If the latter view is taken, by abandoning
punishment when it can no longer be expected to prevent an act,
the law abandons the retributive and adopts the preventive
theory.

The next doctrine leads to still clearer conclusions. Ignorance
of the law is no excuse for breaking it. This substantive
principle is sometimes put in the form of a rule of evidence,
that every one is presumed to know the [48] law. It has
accordingly been defended by Austin and others, on the ground of
difficulty of proof. If justice requires the fact to be
ascertained, the difficulty of doing so is no ground for refusing
to try. But every one must feel that ignorance of the law could
never be admitted as an excuse, even if the fact could be proved
by sight and hearing in every case. Furthermore, now that parties
can testify, it may be doubted whether a man's knowledge of the
law is any harder to investigate than many questions which are
gone into. The difficulty, such as it is, would be met by
throwing the burden of proving ignorance on the lawbreaker.

The principle cannot be explained by saying that we are not only
commanded to abstain from certain acts, but also to find out that
we are commanded. For if there were such a second command, it is
very clear that the guilt of failing to obey it would bear no
proportion to that of disobeying the principal command if known,
yet the failure to know would receive the same punishment as the
failure to obey the principal law.

The true explanation of the rule is the same as that which
accounts for the law's indifference to a man's particular
temperament, faculties, and so forth. Public policy sacrifices
the individual to the general good. It is desirable that the
burden of all should be equal, but it is still more desirable to
put an end to robbery and murder. It is no doubt true that there
are many cases in which the criminal could not have known that he
was breaking the law, but to admit the excuse at all would be to
encourage ignorance where the law-maker has determined to make
men know and obey, and justice to the individual is rightly
outweighed by the larger interests on the other side of the
scales.

[49] If the foregoing arguments are sound, it is already manifest
that liability to punishment cannot be finally and absolutely
determined by considering the actual personal unworthiness of the
criminal alone. That consideration will govern only so far as the
public welfare permits or demands. And if we take into account
the general result which the criminal law is intended to bring
about, we shall see that the actual state of mind accompanying a
criminal act plays a different part from what is commonly
supposed.

For the most part, the purpose of the criminal law is only to
induce external conformity to rule. All law is directed to
conditions of things manifest to the senses. And whether it
brings those conditions to pass immediately by the use of force,
as when it protects a house from a mob by soldiers, or
appropriates private property to public use, or hangs a man in
pursuance of a judicial sentence, or whether it brings them about
mediately through men's fears, its object is equally an external
result. In directing itself against robbery or murder, for
instance, its purpose is to put a stop to the actual physical
taking and keeping of other men's goods, or the actual poisoning,
shooting, stabbing, and otherwise putting to death of other men.
If those things are not done, the law forbidding them is equally
satisfied, whatever the motive.

Considering this purely external purpose of the law together with
the fact that it is ready to sacrifice the individual so far as
necessary in order to accomplish that purpose, we can see more
readily than before that the actual degree of personal guilt
involved in any particular transgression cannot be the only
element, if it is an element at all, in the liability incurred.
So far from its [50] being true, as is often assumed, that the
condition of a man's heart or conscience ought to be more
considered in determining criminal than civil liability, it might
almost be said that it is the very opposite of truth. For civil
liability, in its immediate working, is simply a redistribution
of an existing loss between two individuals; and it will be
argued in the next Lecture that sound policy lets losses lie
where they fall, except where a special reason can be shown for
interference. The most frequent of such reasons is, that the
party who is charged has been to blame.

It is not intended to deny that criminal liability, as well as
civil, is founded on blameworthiness. Such a denial would shock
the moral sense of any civilized community; or, to put it another
way, a law which punished conduct which would not be blameworthy
in the average member of the community would be too severe for
that community to bear. It is only intended to point out that,
when we are dealing with that part of the law which aims more
directly than any other at establishing standards of conduct, we
should expect there more than elsewhere to find that the tests of
liability are external, and independent of the degree of evil in
the particular person's motives or intentions. The conclusion
follows directly from the nature of the standards to which
conformity is required. These are not only external, as was shown
above, but they are of general application. They do not merely
require that every man should get as near as he can to the best
conduct possible for him. They require him at his own peril to
come up to a certain height. They take no account of
incapacities, unless the weakness is so marked as to fall into
well-known exceptions, such as infancy or madness. [51] They
assume that every man is as able as every other to behave as they
command. If they fall on any one class harder than on another, it
is on the weakest. For it is precisely to those who are most
likely to err by temperament, ignorance, or folly, that the
threats of the law are the most dangerous.

The reconciliation of the doctrine that liability is founded on
blameworthiness with the existence of liability where the party
is not to blame, will be worked out more fully in the next
Lecture. It is found in the conception of the average man, the
man of ordinary intelligence and reasonable prudence. Liability
is said to arise out of such conduct as would be blameworthy in
him. But he is an ideal being, represented by the jury when they
are appealed to, and his conduct is an external or objective
standard when applied to any given individual. That individual
may be morally without stain, because he has less than ordinary
intelligence or prudence. But he is required to have those
qualities at his peril. If he has them, he will not, as a general
rule, incur liability without blameworthiness.

The next step is to take up some crimes in detail, and to
discover what analysis will teach with regard to them.

I will begin with murder. Murder is defined by Sir James Stephen,
in his Digest of Criminal Law, /1/ as unlawful homicide with
malice aforethought. In his earlier work, /2/ he explained that
malice meant wickedness, and that the law had determined what
states of mind were wicked in the necessary degree. Without the
same preliminary he continues in his Digest as follows:--

[52] "Malice aforethought means any one or more of the following
states of mind..... "(a.) An intention to cause the death of, or
grievous bodily harm to, any person, whether such person is the
person actually killed or not; "(b.) Knowledge that the act which
causes death will probably cause the death of, or grievous bodily
harm to, some person, whether such person is the person actually
killed or not, although such knowledge is accompanied by
indifference whether death or grievous bodily harm is caused or
not, or by a wish that it may not be caused; "(c.) An intent to
commit any felony whatever; "(d.) An intent to oppose by force
any officer of justice on his way to, in, or returning from the
execution of the duty of arresting, keeping in custody, or
imprisoning any person whom he is lawfully entitled to arrest,
keep in custody, or imprison, or the duty of keeping the peace or
dispersing an unlawful assembly, provided that the offender has
notice that the person killed is such an officer so employed."

Malice, as used in common speech, includes intent, and something
more. When an act is said to be done with an intent to do harm,
it is meant that a wish for the harm is the motive of the act.
Intent, however, is perfectly consistent with the harm being
regretted as such, and being wished only as a means to something
else. But when an act is said to be done maliciously, it is
meant, not only that a wish for the harmful effect is the motive,
but also that the harm is wished for its own sake, or, as Austin
would say with more accuracy, for the sake of the pleasurable
feeling which knowledge of the suffering caused by the act would
excite. Now it is apparent from Sir James [53] Stephen's
enumeration, that of these two elements of malice the intent
alone is material to murder. It is just as much murder to shoot a
sentry for the purpose of releasing a friend, as to shoot him
because you hate him. Malice, in the definition of murder, has
not the same meaning as in common speech, and, in view of the
considerations just mentioned, it has been thought to mean
criminal intention. /1/

But intent again will be found to resolve itself into two things;
foresight that certain consequences will follow from an act, and
the wish for those consequences working as a motive which induces
the act. The question then is, whether intent, in its turn,
cannot be reduced to a lower term. Sir James Stephen's statement
shows that it can be, and that knowledge that the act will
probably cause death, that is, foresight of the consequences of
the act, is enough in murder as in tort.

For instance, a newly born child is laid naked out of doors,
where it must perish as a matter of course. This is none the less
murder, that the guilty party would have been very glad to have a
stranger find the child and save it. /2/

But again, What is foresight of consequences? It is a picture of
a future state of things called up by knowledge of the present
state of things, the future being viewed as standing to the
present in the relation of effect to cause. Again, we must seek a
reduction to lower terms. If the known present state of things is
such that the act done will very certainly cause death, and the
probability is a matter of common knowledge, one who does the
act, [54] knowing the present state of things, is guilty of
murder, and the law will not inquire whether he did actually
foresee the consequences or not. The test of foresight is not
what this very criminal foresaw, but what a man of reasonable
prudence would have foreseen.

On the other hand, there must be actual present knowledge of the
present facts which make an act dangerous. The act is not enough
by itself. An act, it is true, imports intention in a certain
sense. It is a muscular contraction, and something more. A spasm
is not an act. The contraction of the muscles must be willed. And
as an adult who is master of himself foresees with mysterious
accuracy the outward adjustment which will follow his inward
effort, that adjustment may be said to be intended. But the
intent necessarily accompanying the act ends there. Nothing would
follow from the act except for the environment. All acts, taken
apart from their surrounding circumstances, are indifferent to
the law. For instance, to crook the forefinger with a certain
force is the same act whether the trigger of a pistol is next to
it or not. It is only the surrounding circumstances of a pistol
loaded and cocked, and of a human being in such relation to it,
as to be manifestly likely to be hit, that make the act a wrong.
Hence, it is no sufficient foundation for liability, on any sound
principle, that the proximate cause of loss was an act.

The reason for requiring an act is, that an act implies a choice,
and that it is felt to be impolitic and unjust to make a man
answerable for harm, unless he might have chosen otherwise. But
the choice must be made with a chance of contemplating the
consequence complained of, or else it has no bearing on
responsibility for that consequence. [55] If this were not true,
a man might be held answerable for everything which would not
have happened but for his choice at some past time. For instance,
for having in a fit fallen on a man, which he would not have done
had he not chosen to come to the city where he was taken ill.

All foresight of the future, all choice with regard to any
possible consequence of action, depends on what is known at the
moment of choosing. An act cannot be wrong, even when done under
circumstances in which it will be hurtful, unless those
circumstances are or ought to be known. A fear of punishment for
causing harm cannot work as a motive, unless the possibility of
harm may be foreseen. So far, then, as criminal liability is
founded upon wrong-doing in any sense, and so far as the threats
and punishments of the law are intended to deter men from
bringing about various harmful results, they must be confined to
cases where circumstances making the conduct dangerous were
known.

Still, in a more limited way, the same principle applies to
knowledge that applies to foresight. It is enough that such
circumstances were actually known as would have led a man of
common understanding to infer from them the rest of the group
making up the present state of things. For instance, if a workman
on a house-top at mid-day knows that the space below him is a
street in a great city, he knows facts from which a man of common
understanding would infer that there were people passing below.
He is therefore bound to draw that inference, or, in other words,
is chargeable with knowledge of that fact also, whether he draws
the inference or not. If then, he throws down a heavy beam into
the street, he does an act [56] which a person of ordinary
prudence would foresee is likely to cause death, or grievous
bodily harm, and he is dealt with as if he foresaw it, whether he
does so in fact or not. If a death is caused by the act, he is
guilty of murder. /1/ But if the workman has reasonable cause to
believe that the space below is a private yard from which every
one is excluded, and which is used as a rubbish heap, his act is
not blameworthy, and the homicide is a mere misadventure.

To make an act which causes death murder, then, the actor ought,
on principle, to know, or have notice of the facts which make the
act dangerous. There are certain exceptions to this principle
which will be stated presently, but they have less application to
murder than to some smaller statutory crimes. The general rule
prevails for the most part in murder.

But furthermore, on the same principle, the danger which in fact
exists under the known circumstances ought to be of a class which
a man of reasonable prudence could foresee. Ignorance of a fact
and inability to foresee a consequence have the same effect on
blameworthiness. If a consequence cannot be foreseen, it cannot
be avoided. But there is this practical difference, that whereas,
in most cases, the question of knowledge is a question of the
actual condition of the defendant's consciousness, the question
of what he might have foreseen is determined by the standard of
the prudent man, that is, by general experience. For it is to be
remembered that the object of the law is to prevent human life
being endangered or taken; and that, although it so far considers
blameworthiness in punishing as not to hold a man responsible for
consequences which [57] no one, or only some exceptional
specialist, could have foreseen, still the reason for this
limitation is simply to make a rule which is not too hard for the
average member of the community. As the purpose is to compel men
to abstain from dangerous conduct, and not merely to restrain
them from evil inclinations, the law requires them at their peril
to know the teachings of common experience, just as it requires
them to know the law. Subject to these explanations, it may be
said that the test of murder is the degree of danger to life
attending the act under the known circumstances of the case. /1/

It needs no further explanation to show that, when the particular
defendant does for any reason foresee what an ordinary man of
reasonable prudence would not have foreseen, the ground of
exemption no longer applies. A harmful act is only excused on the
ground that the party neither did foresee, nor could with proper
care have foreseen harm.

It would seem, at first sight, that the above analysis ought to
exhaust the whole subject of murder. But it does not without some
further explanation. If a man forcibly resists an officer
lawfully making an arrest, and kills him, knowing him to be an
officer, it may be murder, although no act is done which, but for
his official function, would be criminal at all. So, if a man
does an act with intent to commit a felony, and thereby
accidentally kills another; for instance, if he fires at
chickens, intending to steal them, and accidentally kills the
owner, whom he does not see. Such a case as this last seems
hardly to be reconcilable with the general principles which have
been laid down. It has been argued somewhat as [58] follows:--The
only blameworthy act is firing at the chickens, knowing them to
belong to another. It is neither more nor less so because an
accident happens afterwards; and hitting a man, whose presence
could not have been suspected, is an accident. The fact that the
shooting is felonious does not make it any more likely to kill
people. If the object of the rule is to prevent such accidents,
it should make accidental killing with firearms murder, not
accidental killing in the effort to steal; while, if its object
is to prevent stealing, it would do better to hang one thief in
every thousand by lot.

Still, the law is intelligible as it stands. The general test of
murder is the degree of danger attending the acts under the known
state of facts. If certain acts are regarded as peculiarly
dangerous under certain circumstances, a legislator may make them
punishable if done under these circumstances, although the danger
was not generally known. The law often takes this step, although
it does not nowadays often inflict death in such cases. It
sometimes goes even further, and requires a man to find out
present facts, as well as to foresee future harm, at his peril,
although they are not such as would necessarily be inferred from
the facts known.

Thus it is a statutory offence in England to abduct a girl under
sixteen from the possession of the person having lawful charge of
her. If a man does acts which induce a girl under sixteen to
leave her parents, he is not chargeable, if he had no reason to
know that she was under the lawful charge of her parents, /1/ and
it may be presumed that he would not be, if he had reasonable
cause to believe that she was a boy. But if he knowingly abducts
a girl from [59] her parents, he must find out her age at his
peril. It is no defence that he had every reason to think her
over sixteen. /1/ So, under a prohibitory liquor law, it has been
held that, if a man sells "Plantation Bitters," it is no defence
that he does not know them to be intoxicating. /2/ And there are
other examples of the same kind.

Now, if experience shows, or is deemed by the law-maker to show,
that somehow or other deaths which the evidence makes accidental
happen disproportionately often in connection with other
felonies, or with resistance to officers, or if on any other
ground of policy it is deemed desirable to make special efforts
for the prevention of such deaths, the lawmaker may consistently
treat acts which, under the known circumstances, are felonious,
or constitute resistance to officers, as having a sufficiently
dangerous tendency to be put under a special ban. The law may,
therefore, throw on the actor the peril, not only of the
consequences foreseen by him, but also of consequences which,
although not predicted by common experience, the legislator
apprehends. I do not, however, mean to argue that the rules under
discussion arose on the above reasoning, any more than that they
are right, or would be generally applied in this country.

Returning to the main line of thought it will be instructive to
consider the relation of manslaughter to murder. One great
difference between the two will be found to lie in the degree of
danger attaching to the act in the given state of facts. If a man
strikes another with a small stick which is not likely to kill,
and which he has no reason to suppose will do more than slight
bodily harm, but which [60] does kill the other, he commits
manslaughter, not murder. /1/ But if the blow is struck as hard
as possible with an iron bar an inch thick, it is murder. /2/ So
if, at the time of striking with a switch, the party knows an
additional fact, by reason of which he foresees that death will
be the consequence of a slight blow, as, for instance, that the
other has heart disease, the offence is equally murder. /3/ To
explode a barrel of gunpowder in a crowded street, and kill
people, is murder, although the actor hopes that no such harm
will be done. /4/ But to kill a man by careless riding in the
same street would commonly be manslaughter. /5/ Perhaps, however,
a case could be put where the riding was so manifestly dangerous
that it would be murder.

To recur to an example which has been used already for another
purpose: "When a workman flings down a stone or piece of timber
into the street, and kills a man; this may be either
misadventure, manslaughter, or murder, according to the
circumstances under which the original act was done: if it were
in a country village, where few passengers are, and he calls out
to all people to have a care, it is misadventure only; but if it
were in London, or other populous town, where people are
continually passing, it is manslaughter, though he gives loud
warning; and murder, if he knows of their passing, and gives no
warning at all." /6/

The law of manslaughter contains another doctrine [61] which
should be referred to in order to complete the understanding of
the general principles of the criminal law. This doctrine is,
that provocation may reduce an offence which would otherwise have
been murder to manslaughter. According to current morality, a man
is not so much to blame for an act done under the disturbance of
great excitement, caused by a wrong done to himself, as when he
is calm. The law is made to govern men through their motives, and
it must, therefore, take their mental constitution into account.

It might be urged, on the other side, that, if the object of
punishment is prevention, the heaviest punishment should be
threatened where the strongest motive is needed to restrain; and
primitive legislation seems sometimes to have gone on that
principle. But if any threat will restrain a man in a passion, a
threat of less than death will be sufficient, and therefore the
extreme penalty has been thought excessive.

At the same time the objective nature of legal standards is shown
even here. The mitigation does not come from the fact that the
defendant was beside himself with rage. It is not enough that he
had grounds which would have had the same effect on every man of
his standing and education. The most insulting words are not
provocation, although to this day, and still more when the law
was established, many people would rather die than suffer them
without action. There must be provocation sufficient to justify
the passion, and the law decides on general considerations what
provocations are sufficient.

It is said that even what the law admits to be "provocation does
not extenuate the guilt of homicide, unless the person provoked
is at the time when he does the deed [62] deprived of the power
of self-control by the provocation which he has received." /1/
There are obvious reasons for taking the actual state of the
defendant's consciousness into account to this extent. The only
ground for not applying the general rule is, that the defendant
was in such a state that he could not be expected to remember or
be influenced by the fear of punishment; if he could be, the
ground of exception disappears. Yet even here, rightly or
wrongly, the law has gone far in the direction of adopting
external tests. The courts seem to have decided between murder
and manslaughter on such grounds as the nature of the weapon
used, /2/ or the length of time between the provocation and the
act. /3/ But in other cases the question whether the prisoner was
deprived of self-control by passion has been left to the jury.
/4/

As the object of this Lecture is not to give an outline of the
criminal law, but to explain its general theory, I shall only
consider such offences as throw some special light upon the
subject, and shall treat of those in such order as seems best
fitted for that purpose. It will now be useful to take up
malicious mischief, and to compare the malice required to
constitute that offence with the malice aforethought of murder.

The charge of malice aforethought in an indictment for murder has
been shown not to mean a state of the defendant's mind, as is
often thought, except in the sense that he knew circumstances
which did in fact make his conduct dangerous. It is, in truth, an
allegation like that of negligence, which asserts that the party
accused did not [63] come up to the legal standard of action
under the circumstances in which he found himself, and also that
there was no exceptional fact or excuse present which took the
case out of the general rule. It is an averment of a conclusion
of law which is permitted to abridge the facts (positive and
negative) on which it is founded.

When a statute punishes the "wilfully and maliciously" injuring
another's property, it is arguable, if not clear, that something
more is meant. The presumption that the second word was not added
without some meaning is seconded by the unreasonableness of
making every wilful trespass criminal. /1/ If this reasoning
prevails, maliciously is here used in its popular sense, and
imports that the motive for the defendant's act was a wish to
harm the owner of the property, or the thing itself, if living,
as an end, and for the sake of the harm. Malice in this sense has
nothing in common with the malice of murder.

Statutory law need not profess to be consistent with itself, or
with the theory adopted by judicial decisions. Hence there is
strictly no need to reconcile such a statute with the principles
which have been explained. But there is no inconsistency.
Although punishment must be confined to compelling external
conformity to a rule of conduct, so far that it can always be
avoided by avoiding or doing certain acts as required, with
whatever intent or for whatever motive, still the prohibited
conduct may not be hurtful unless it is accompanied by a
particular state of feeling.

Common disputes about property are satisfactorily settled by
compensation. But every one knows that sometimes secret harm is
done by neighbor to neighbor out of [64] pure malice and spite.
The damage can be paid for, but the malignity calls for revenge,
and the difficulty of detecting the authors of such wrongs, which
are always done secretly, affords a ground for punishment, even
if revenge is thought insufficient.

How far the law will go in this direction it is hard to say. The
crime of arson is defined to be the malicious and wilful burning
of the house of another man, and is generally discussed in close
connection with malicious mischief. It has been thought that the
burning was not malicious where a prisoner set fire to his
prison, not from a desire to consume the building, but solely to
effect his escape. But it seems to be the better opinion that
this is arson, /1/ in which case an intentional burning is
malicious within the meaning of the rule. When we remember that
arson was the subject of one of the old appeals which take us far
back into the early law, /2/ we may readily understand that only
intentional burnings were redressed in that way. /3/ The appeal
of arson was brother to the appeal de pace et plagis. As the
latter was founded on a warlike assault, the former supposed a
house-firing for robbery or revenge, /4/ such as that by which
Njal perished in the Icelandic Saga. But this crime seems to have
had the same history as others. As soon as intent is admitted to
be sufficient, the law is on the high-road to an external
standard. A man who intentionally sets fire to his own house,
which is so near to other houses that the fire will manifestly
endanger them, is guilty of arson if one of the other houses is
burned in consequence. /5/ In this case, an act which would not
[65] have been arson, taking only its immediate consequences into
account, becomes arson by reason of more remote consequences
which were manifestly likely to follow, whether they were
actually intended or not. If that may be the effect of setting
fire to things which a man has a right to burn, so far as they
alone are concerned, why, on principle, should it not be the
effect of any other act which is equally likely under the
surrounding circumstances to cause the same harm. /1/ Cases may
easily be imagined where firing a gun, or making a chemical
mixture, or piling up oiled rags, or twenty other things, might
be manifestly dangerous in the highest degree and actually lead
to a conflagration. If, in such cases, the crime is held to have
been committed, an external standard is reached, and the analysis
which has been made of murder applies here.

There is another class of cases in which intent plays an
important part, for quite different reasons from those which have
been offered to account for the law of malicious mischief. The
most obvious examples of this class are criminal attempts.
Attempt and intent, of course, are two distinct things. Intent to
commit a crime is not itself criminal. There is no law against a
man's intending to commit a murder the day after tomorrow. The
law only deals with conduct. An attempt is an overt act. It
differs from the attempted crime in this, that the act has failed
to bring about the result which would have given it the character
of the principal crime. If an attempt to murder results in death
within a year and a day, it is murder. If an attempt to steal
results in carrying off the owner's goods, it is larceny.

If an act is done of which the natural and probable [66] effect
under the circumstances is the accomplishment of a substantive
crime, the criminal law, while it may properly enough moderate
the severity of punishment if the act has not that effect in the
particular case, can hardly abstain altogether from punishing it,
on any theory. It has been argued that an actual intent is all
that can give the act a criminal character in such instances. /1/
But if the views which I have advanced as to murder and
manslaughter are sound, the same principles ought logically to
determine the criminality of acts in general. Acts should be
judged by their tendency under the known circumstances, not by
the actual intent which accompanies them.

It may be true that in the region of attempts, as elsewhere, the
law began with cases of actual intent, as those cases are the
most obvious ones. But it cannot stop with them, unless it
attaches more importance to the etymological meaning of the word
attempt than to the general principles of punishment. Accordingly
there is at least color of authority for the proposition that an
act is punishable as an attempt, if, supposing it to have
produced its natural and probable effect, it would have amounted
to a substantive crime. /2/

But such acts are not the only punishable attempts. There is
another class in which actual intent is clearly necessary, and
the existence of this class as well as the name (attempt) no
doubt tends to affect the whole doctrine. Some acts may be
attempts or misdemeanors which [67] could not have effected the
crime unless followed by other acts on the part of the
wrong-doer. For instance, lighting a match with intent to set
fire to a haystack has been held to amount to a criminal attempt
to burn it, although the defendant blew out the match on seeing
that he was watched. /1/ So the purchase of dies for making
counterfeit coin is a misdemeanor, although of course the coin
would not be counterfeited unless the dies were used. /2/

In such cases the law goes on a new principle, different from
that governing most substantive crimes. The reason for punishing
any act must generally be to prevent some harm which is foreseen
as likely to follow that act under the circumstances in which it
is done. In most substantive crimes the ground on which that
likelihood stands is the common working of natural causes as
shown by experience. But when an act is punished the natural
effect of which is not harmful under the circumstances, that
ground alone will not suffice. The probability does not exist
unless there are grounds for expecting that the act done will be
followed by other acts in connection with which its effect will
be harmful, although not so otherwise. But as in fact no such
acts have followed, it cannot, in general, be assumed, from the
mere doing of what has been done, that they would have followed
if the actor had not been interrupted. They would not have
followed it unless the actor had chosen, and the only way
generally available to show that he would have chosen to do them
is by showing that he intended to do them when he did what he
did. The accompanying intent in that case renders the otherwise
[68] innocent act harmful, because it raises a probability that
it will be followed by such other acts and events as will all
together result in harm. The importance of the intent is not to
show that the act was wicked, but to show that it was likely to
be followed by hurtful consequences.

It will be readily seen that there are limits to this kind of
liability. The law does not punish every act which is done with
the intent to bring about a crime. If a man starts from Boston to
Cambridge for the purpose of committing a murder when he gets
there, but is stopped by the draw and goes home, he is no more
punishable than if he had sat in his chair and resolved to shoot
somebody, but on second thoughts had given up the notion. On the
other hand, a slave who ran after a white woman, but desisted
before he caught her, has been convicted of an attempt to commit
rape. /1/ We have seen what amounts to an attempt to burn a
haystack; but it was said in the same case, that, if the
defendant had gone no further than to buy a box of matches for
the purpose, he would not have been liable.

Eminent judges have been puzzled where to draw the line, or even
to state the principle on which it should be drawn, between the
two sets of cases. But the principle is believed to be similar to
that on which all other lines are drawn by the law. Public
policy, that is to say, legislative considerations, are at the
bottom of the matter; the considerations being, in this case, the
nearness of the danger, the greatness of the harm, and the degree
of apprehension felt. When a man buys matches to fire a haystack,
or starts on a journey meaning to murder at the end of it, there
is still a considerable chance that he will [69] change his mind
before he comes to the point. But when he has struck the match,
or cocked and aimed the pistol, there is very little chance that
he will not persist to the end, and the danger becomes so great
that the law steps in. With an object which could not be used
innocently, the point of intervention might be put further back,
as in the case of the purchase of a die for coining.

The degree of apprehension may affect the decision, as well as
the degree of probability that the crime will be accomplished. No
doubt the fears peculiar to a slaveowning community had their
share in the conviction which has just been mentioned.

There is one doubtful point which should not be passed over. It
has been thought that to shoot at a block of wood thinking it to
be a man is not an attempt to murder, /1/ and that to put a hand
into an empty pocket, intending to pick it, is not an attempt to
commit larceny, although on the latter question there is a
difference of opinion. /2/ The reason given is, that an act which
could not have effected the crime if the actor had been allowed
to follow it up to all results to which in the nature of things
it could have led, cannot be an attempt to commit that crime when
interrupted. At some point or other, of course, the law must
adopt this conclusion, unless it goes on the theory of
retribution for guilt, and not of prevention of harm.

But even to prevent harm effectually it will not do to be too
exact. I do not suppose that firing a pistol at a man with intent
to kill him is any the less an attempt to murder because the
bullet misses its aim. Yet there the act has produced the whole
effect possible to it in the [70] course of nature. It is just as
impossible that that bullet under those circumstances should hit
that man, as to pick an empty pocket. But there is no difficulty
in saying that such an act under such circumstances is so
dangerous, so far as the possibility of human foresight is
concerned, that it should be punished. No one can absolutely
know, though many would be pretty sure, exactly where the bullet
will strike; and if the harm is done, it is a very great harm. If
a man fires at a block, no harm can possibly ensue, and no theft
can be committed in an empty pocket, besides that the harm of
successful theft is less than that of murder. Yet it might be
said that even such things as these should be punished, in order
to make discouragement broad enough and easy to understand.

There remain to be considered certain substantive crimes, which
differ in very important ways from murder and the like, and for
the explanation of which the foregoing analysis of intent in
criminal attempts and analogous misdemeanors will be found of
service.

The type of these is larceny. Under this name acts are punished
which of themselves would not be sufficient to accomplish the
evil which the law seeks to prevent, and which are treated as
equally criminal, whether the evil has been accomplished or not.
Murder, manslaughter, and arson, on the other hand, are not
committed unless the evil is accomplished, and they all consist
of acts the tendency of which under the surrounding circumstances
is to hurt or destroy person or property by the mere working of
natural laws.

In larceny the consequences immediately flowing from the act are
generally exhausted with little or no harm to the owner. Goods
are removed from his possession by [71] trespass, and that is
all, when the crime is complete. But they must be permanently
kept from him before the harm is done which the law seeks to
prevent. A momentary loss of possession is not what has been
guarded against with such severe penalties. What the law means to
prevent is the loss of it wholly and forever, as is shown by the
fact that it is not larceny to take for a temporary use without
intending to deprive the owner of his property. If then the law
punishes the mere act of taking, it punishes an act which will
not of itself produce the evil effect sought to be prevented, and
punishes it before that effect has in any way come to pass.

The reason is plain enough. The law cannot wait until the
property has been used up or destroyed in other hands than the
owner's, or until the owner has died, in order to make sure that
the harm which it seeks to prevent has been done. And for the
same reason it cannot confine itself to acts likely to do that
harm. For the harm of permanent loss of property will not follow
from the act of taking, but only from the series of acts which
constitute removing and keeping the property after it has been
taken. After these preliminaries, the bearing of intent upon the
crime is easily seen.

According to Mr. Bishop, larceny is "the taking and removing, by
trespass, of personal property which the trespasser knows to
belong either generally or specially to another, with the intent
to deprive such owner of his ownership therein; and perhaps it
should be added, for the sake of some advantage to the
trespasser, a proposition on which the decisions are not
harmonious." /1/

There must be an intent to deprive such owner of his [72]
ownership therein, it is said. But why? Is it because the law is
more anxious not to put a man in prison for stealing unless he is
actually wicked, than it is not to hang him for killing another?
That can hardly be. The true answer is, that the intent is an
index to the external event which probably would have happened,
and that, if the law is to punish at all, it must, in this case,
go on probabilities, not on accomplished facts. The analogy to
the manner of dealing with attempts is plain. Theft may be called
an attempt to permanently deprive a man of his property, which is
punished with the same severity whether successful or not. If
theft can rightly be considered in this way, intent must play the
same part as in other attempts. An act which does not fully
accomplish the prohibited result may be made wrongful by evidence
that but for some interference it would have been followed by
other acts co-ordinated with it to produce that result. This can
only be shown by showing intent. In theft the intent to deprive
the owner of his property establishes that the thief would have
retained, or would not have taken steps to restore, the stolen
goods. Nor would it matter that the thief afterwards changed his
mind and returned the goods. From the point of view of attempt,
the crime was already complete when the property was carried off.

It may be objected to this view, that, if intent is only a
makeshift which from a practical necessity takes the place of
actual deprivation, it ought not to be required where the actual
deprivation is wholly accomplished, provided the same criminal
act produces the whole effect. Suppose, for instance, that by one
and the same motion a man seizes and backs another's horse over a
precipice. The whole evil which the law seeks to prevent is the
natural and manifestly [73] certain consequence of the act under
the known circumstances. In such a case, if the law of larceny is
consistent with the theories here maintained, the act should be
passed upon according to its tendency, and the actual intent of
the wrong-doer not in any way considered. Yet it is possible, to
say the least, that even in such a case the intent would make all
the difference. I assume that the act was without excuse and
wrongful, and that it would have amounted to larceny, if done for
the purpose of depriving the owner of his horse. Nevertheless, if
it was done for the sake of an experiment, and without actual
foresight of the destruction, or evil design against the owner,
the trespasser might not be held a thief.

The inconsistency, if there is one, seems to be explained by the
way in which the law has grown. The distinctions of the common
law as to theft are not those of a broad theory of legislation;
they are highly technical, and very largely dependent upon
history for explanation. /1/

The type of theft is taking to one's own user It used to be, and
sometimes still is, thought that the taking must be lucri catesa,
for the sake of some advantage to the thief. In such cases the
owner is deprived of his property by the thief's keeping it, not
by its destruction, and the permanence of his loss can only be
judged of beforehand by the intent to keep. The intent is
therefore always necessary, and it is naturally stated in the
form of a self-regarding intent. It was an advance on the old
precedents when it was decided that the intent to deprive the
owner of his property was sufficient. As late as 1815 the English
judges stood only six to five in favor of the proposition [74]
that it was larceny to take a horse intending to kill it for no
other purpose than to destroy evidence against a friend. /1/ Even
that case, however, did not do away with the universality of
intent as a test, for the destruction followed the taking, and it
is an ancient rule that the criminality of the act must be
determined by the state of things at the time of the taking, and
not afterwards. Whether the law of larceny would follow what
seems to be the general principle of criminal law, or would be
held back by tradition, could only be decided by a case like that
supposed above, where the same act accomplishes both taking and
destruction. As has been suggested already, tradition might very
possibly prevail.

Another crime in which the peculiarities noticed in larceny are
still more clearly marked, and at the same time more easily
explained, is burglary. It is defined as breaking and entering
any dwelling-house by night with intent to commit a felony
therein. /2/ The object of punishing such a breaking and entering
is not to prevent trespasses, even when committed by night, but
only such trespasses as are the first step to wrongs of a greater
magnitude, like robbery or murder. /3/ In this case the function
of intent when proved appears more clearly than in theft, but it
is precisely similar. It is an index to the probability of
certain future acts which the law seeks to prevent. And here the
law gives evidence that this is the true explanation. For if the
apprehended act did follow, then it is no longer necessary to
allege that the breaking and entering was with that intent. An
indictment for burglary which charges that [75] the defendant
broke into a dwelling-house and stole certain property, is just
as good as one which alleges that he broke in with intent to
steal. /1/

It is believed that enough has now been said to explain the
general theory of criminal liability, as it stands at common law.
The result may be summed up as follows. All acts are indifferent
per se.

In the characteristic type of substantive crime acts are rendered
criminal because they are done finder circumstances in which they
will probably cause some harm which the law seeks to prevent.

The test of criminality in such cases is the degree of danger
shown by experience to attend that act under those circumstances.

In such cases the mens rea, or actual wickedness of the party, is
wholly unnecessary, and all reference to the state of his
consciousness is misleading if it means anything more than that
the circumstances in connection with which the tendency of his
act is judged are the circumstances known to him. Even the
requirement of knowledge is subject to certain limitations. A man
must find out at his peril things which a reasonable and prudent
man would have inferred from the things actually known. In some
cases, especially of statutory crimes, he must go even further,
and, when he knows certain facts, must find out at his peril
whether the other facts are present which would make the act
criminal. A man who abducts a girl from her parents in England
must find out at his peril whether she is under sixteen.

[76] In some cases it may be that the consequence of the act,
under the circumstances, must be actually foreseen, if it is a
consequence which a prudent man would not have foreseen. The
reference to the prudent man, as a standard, is the only form in
which blameworthiness as such is an element of crime, and what
would be blameworthy in such a man is an element;--first, as a
survival of true moral standards; second, because to punish what
would not be blameworthy in an average member of the community
would be to enforce a standard which was indefensible
theoretically, and which practically was too high for that
community.

In some cases, actual malice or intent, in the common meaning of
those words, is an element in crime. But it will be found that,
when it is so, it is because the act when done maliciously is
followed by harm which would not have followed the act alone, or
because the intent raises a strong probability that an act,
innocent in itself, will be followed by other acts or events in
connection with which it will accomplish the result sought to be
prevented by the law.


[77]




LECTURE III. -- TORTS.--TRESPASS AND NEGLIGENCE.

The object of the next two Lectures is to discover whether there
is any common ground at the bottom of all liability in tort, and
if so, what that ground is. Supposing the attempt to succeed, it
will reveal the general principle of civil liability at common
law. The liabilities incurred by way of contract are more or less
expressly fixed by the agreement of the parties concerned, but
those arising from a tort are independent of any previous consent
of the wrong-doer to bear the loss occasioned by his act. If A
fails to pay a certain sum on a certain day, or to deliver a
lecture on a certain night, after having made a binding promise
to do so, the damages which he has to pay are recovered in
accordance with his consent that some or all of the harms which
may be caused by his failure shall fall upon him. But when A
assaults or slanders his neighbor, or converts his neighbor's
property, he does a harm which he has never consented to bear,
and if the law makes him pay for it, the reason for doing so must
be found in some general view of the conduct which every one may
fairly expect and demand from every other, whether that other has
agreed to it or not.

Such a general view is very hard to find. The law did not begin
with a theory. It has never worked one out. The point from which
it started and that at which I shall [78] try to show that it has
arrived, are on different planes. In the progress from one to the
other, it is to be expected that its course should not be
straight and its direction not always visible. All that can be
done is to point out a tendency, and to justify it. The tendency,
which is our main concern, is a matter of fact to be gathered
from the cases. But the difficulty of showing it is much enhanced
by the circumstance that, until lately, the substantive law has
been approached only through the categories of the forms of
action. Discussions of legislative principle have been darkened
by arguments on the limits between trespass and case, or on the
scope of a general issue. In place of a theory of tort, we have a
theory of trespass. And even within that narrower limit,
precedents of the time of the assize and jurata have been applied
without a thought of their connection with a long forgotten
procedure.

Since the ancient forms of action have disappeared, a broader
treatment of the subject ought to be possible. Ignorance is the
best of law reformers. People are glad to discuss a question on
general principles, when they have forgotten the special
knowledge necessary for technical reasoning. But the present
willingness to generalize is founded on more than merely negative
grounds. The philosophical habit of the day, the frequency of
legislation, and the ease with which the law may be changed to
meet the opinions and wishes of the public, all make it natural
and unavoidable that judges as well as others should openly
discuss the legislative principles upon which their decisions
must always rest in the end, and should base their judgments upon
broad considerations of policy to which the traditions of the
bench would hardly have tolerated a reference fifty years ago.

[79] The business of the law of torts is to fix the dividing
lines between those cases in which a man is liable for harm which
he has done, and those in which he is not. But it cannot enable
him to predict with certainty whether a given act under given
circumstances will make him liable, because an act will rarely
have that effect unless followed by damage, and for the most
part, if not always, the consequences of an act are not known,
but only guessed at as more or less probable. All the rules that
the law can lay down beforehand are rules for determining the
conduct which will be followed by liability if it is followed by
harm--that is, the conduct which a man pursues at his peril. The
only guide for the future to be drawn from a decision against a
defendant in an action of tort is that similar acts, under
circumstances which cannot be distinguished except by the result
from those of the defendant, are done at the peril of the actor;
that if he escapes liability, it is simply because by good
fortune no harm comes of his conduct in the particular event.

If, therefore, there is any common ground for all liability in
tort, we shall best find it by eliminating the event as it
actually turns out, and by considering only the principles on
which the peril of his conduct is thrown upon the actor. We are
to ask what are the elements, on the defendant's side, which must
all be present before liability is possible, and the presence of
which will commonly make him liable if damage follows.

The law of torts abounds in moral phraseology. It has much to say
of wrongs, of malice, fraud, intent, and negligence. Hence it may
naturally be supposed that the risk of a man's conduct is thrown
upon him as the result of some moral short-coming. But while this
notion has been [80] entertained, the extreme opposite will be
found to have been a far more popular opinion;--I mean the notion
that a man is answerable for all the consequences of his acts,
or, in other words, that he acts at his peril always, and wholly
irrespective of the state of his consciousness upon the matter.

To test the former opinion it would be natural to take up
successively the several words, such as negligence and intent,
which in the language of morals designate various well-understood
states of mind, and to show their significance in the law. To
test the latter, it would perhaps be more convenient to consider
it under the head of the several forms of action. So many of our
authorities are decisions under one or another of these forms,
that it will not be safe to neglect them, at least in the first
instance; and a compromise between the two modes of approaching
the subject may be reached by beginning with the action of
trespass and the notion of negligence together, leaving wrongs
which are defined as intentional for the next Lecture.

Trespass lies for unintentional, as well as for intended wrongs.
Any wrongful and direct application of force is redressed by that
action. It therefore affords a fair field for a discussion of the
general principles of liability for unintentional wrongs at
common law. For it can hardly be supposed that a man's
responsibility for the consequences of his acts varies as the
remedy happens to fall on one side or the other of the penumbra
which separates trespass from the action on the case. And the
greater part of the law of torts will be found under one or the
other of those two heads.

It might be hastily assumed that the action on the case [81] is
founded on the defendant's negligence. But if that be so, the
same doctrine must prevail in trespass. It might be assumed that
trespass is founded on the defendant's having caused damage by
his act, without regard to negligence. But if that be true, the
law must apply the same criterion to other wrongs differing from
trespass only in some technical point; as, for instance, that the
property damaged was in the defendant's possession. Neither of
the above assumptions, however, can be hastily permitted. It
might very well be argued that the action on the case adopts the
severe rule just suggested for trespass, except when the action
is founded on a contract. Negligence, it might be said, had
nothing to do with the common-law liability for a nuisance, and
it might be added that, where negligence was a ground of
liability, a special duty had to be founded in the defendant's
super se assumpsit, or public calling. /1/ On the other hand, we
shall see what can be said for the proposition, that even in
trespass there must at least be negligence. But whichever
argument prevails for the one form of action must prevail for the
other. The discussion may therefore be shortened on its technical
side, by confining it to trespass so far as may be practicable
without excluding light to be got from other parts of the law.

As has just been hinted, there are two theories of the common-law
liability for unintentional harm. Both of them seem to receive
the implied assent of popular textbooks, and neither of them is
wanting in plausibility and the semblance of authority.

The first is that of Austin, which is essentially the theory of a
criminalist. According to him, the characteristic [82] feature of
law, properly so called, is a sanction or detriment threatened
and imposed by the sovereign for disobedience to the sovereign's
commands. As the greater part of the law only makes a man civilly
answerable for breaking it, Austin is compelled to regard the
liability to an action as a sanction, or, in other words, as a
penalty for disobedience. It follows from this, according to the
prevailing views of penal law, that such liability ought only to
be based upon personal fault; and Austin accepts that conclusion,
with its corollaries, one of which is that negligence means a
state of the party's mind. /1/ These doctrines will be referred
to later, so far as necessary.

The other theory is directly opposed to the foregoing. It seems
to be adopted by some of the greatest common law authorities, and
requires serious discussion before it can be set aside in favor
of any third opinion which may be maintained. According to this
view, broadly stated, under the common law a man acts at his
peril. It may be held as a sort of set-off, that he is never
liable for omissions except in consequence of some duty
voluntarily undertaken. But the whole and sufficient ground for
such liabilities as he does incur outside the last class is
supposed to be that he has voluntarily acted, and that damage has
ensued. If the act was voluntary, it is totally immaterial that
the detriment which followed from it was neither intended nor due
to the negligence of the actor.

In order to do justice to this way of looking at the subject, we
must remember that the abolition of the common-law forms of
pleading has not changed the rules of substantive law. Hence,
although pleaders now generally [83] allege intent or negligence,
anything which would formerly have been sufficient to charge a
defendant in trespass is still sufficient, notwithstanding the
fact that the ancient form of action and declaration has
disappeared.

In the first place, it is said, consider generally the protection
given by the law to property, both within and outside the limits
of the last-named action. If a man crosses his neighbor's
boundary by however innocent a mistake, or if his cattle escape
into his neighbor's field, he is said to be liable in trespass
quare clausum fregit. If an auctioneer in the most perfect good
faith, and in the regular course of his business, sells goods
sent to his rooms for the purpose of being sold, he may be
compelled to pay their full value if a third person turns out to
be the owner, although he has paid over the proceeds, and has no
means of obtaining indemnity.

Now suppose that, instead of a dealing with the plaintiff's
property, the case is that force has proceeded directly from the
defendant's body to the plaintiff's body, it is urged that, as
the law cannot be less careful of the persons than of the
property of its subjects, the only defences possible are similar
to those which would have been open to an alleged trespass on
land. You may show that there was no trespass by showing that the
defendant did no act; as where he was thrown from his horse upon
the plaintiff, or where a third person took his hand and struck
the plaintiff with it. In such cases the defendant's body is file
passive instrument of an external force, and the bodily motion
relied on by the plaintiff is not his act at all. So you may show
a justification or excuse in the conduct of the plaintiff
himself. But if no such excuse is shown, and the defendant has
voluntarily acted, he must answer [84] for the consequences,
however little intended and however unforeseen. If, for instance,
being assaulted by a third person, the defendant lifted his stick
and accidentally hit the plaintiff, who was standing behind him,
according to this view he is liable, irrespective of any
negligence toward the party injured.

The arguments for the doctrine under consideration are, for the
most part, drawn from precedent, but it is sometimes supposed to
be defensible as theoretically sound. Every man, it is said, has
an absolute right to his person, and so forth, free from
detriment at the hands of his neighbors. In the cases put, the
plaintiff has done nothing; the defendant, on the other hand, has
chosen to act. As between the two, the party whose voluntary
conduct has caused the damage should suffer, rather than one who
has had no share in producing it.

We have more difficult matter to deal with when we turn to the
pleadings and precedents in trespass. The declaration says
nothing of negligence, and it is clear that the damage need not
have been intended. The words vi et armis and contra pacere,
which might seem to imply intent, are supposed to have been
inserted merely to give jurisdiction to the king's court.
Glanvill says it belongs to the sheriff, in case of neglect on
the part of lords of franchise, to take cognizance of melees,
blows, and even wounds, unless the accuser add a charge of breach
of the king's peace (nisi accusator adjiciat de pace Domini Regis
infracta). /1/ Reeves observes, "In this distinction between the
sheriff's jurisdiction and that of the king, we see the reason of
the allegation in modern indictments and writs, vi et amis, of
'the king's crown and dignity,' 'the king's [85] peace,' and 'the
peace,'--this last expression being sufficient, after the peace
of the sheriff had ceased to be distinguished as a separate
jurisdiction." /1/

Again, it might be said that, if the defendant's intent or
neglect was essential to his liability, the absence of both would
deprive his act of the character of a trespass, and ought
therefore to be admissible under the general issue. But it is
perfectly well settled at common law that "Not guilty" only
denies the act. /2/

Next comes the argument from authority. I will begin with an
early and important case. /3/ It was trespass quare clausum. The
defendant pleaded that he owned adjoining land, upon which was a
thorn hedge; that he cut the thorns, and that they, against his
will (ipso invito), fell on the plaintiff's land, and the
defendant went quickly upon the same, and took them, which was
the trespass complained of. And on demurrer judgment was given
for the plaintiff. The plaintiff's counsel put cases which have
been often repeated. One of them, Fairfax, said: "There is a
diversity between an act resulting in a felony, and one resulting
in a trespass.... If one is cutting trees, and the boughs fall
on a man and wound him, in this case he shall have an action of
trespass, &c., and also, sir, if one is shooting at butts, and
his bow shakes in his hands, and kills a man, ipso invito, it is
no felony, as has been said, [86] &c.; but if he wounds one by
shooting, he shall have a good action of trespass against him,
and yet the shooting was lawful, &c., and the wrong which the
other receives was against his will, &c.; and so here, &c."
Brian, another counsel, states the whole doctrine, and uses
equally familiar illustrations. "When one does a thing, he is
bound to do it in such a way that by his act no prejudice or
damage shall be done to &c. As if I am building a house, and when
the timber is being put up a piece of timber falls on my
neighbor's house and breaks his house, he shall have a good
action, &c.; and yet the raising of the house was lawful, and the
timber fell, me invito, &c. And so if one assaults me and I
cannot escape, and I in self-defence lift my stick to strike him,
and in lifting it hit a man who is behind me, in this case he
shall have an action against me, yet my raising my stick was
lawful in self-defence, and I hit him, me invito, &c.; and so
here, &C."


"Littleton, J. to the same intent, and if a man is damaged he
ought to be recompensed.... If your cattle come on my land and
eat my grass, notwithstanding you come freshly and drive them
out, you ought to make amends for what your cattle have done, be
it more or less.... And, sir, if this should be law that he
might enter and take the thorns, for the same reason, if he cut a
large tree, he might come with his wagons and horses to carry the
trees off, which is not reason, for perhaps he has corn or other
crops growing, &c., and no more here, for the law is all one in
great things and small.... Choke, C. J. to the same intent, for
when the principal thing was not lawful, that which depends upon
it was not lawful; for when he cut the thorns and they fell on my
land, [87] this falling was not lawful, and therefore his coming
to take them out was not lawful. As to what was said about their
falling in ipso invito, that is no plea, but he ought to show
that he could not do it in any other way, or that he did all that
was in his power to keep them out."

Forty years later, /1/ the Year Books report Rede, J. as adopting
the argument of Fairfax in the last case. In trespass, he says,
"the intent cannot be construed; but in felony it shall be. As
when a man shoots at butts and kills a man, it is not felony et
il ser come n'avoit l'entent de luy tuer; and so of a tiler on a
house who with a stone kills a man unwittingly, it is not felony.
/2/ But when a man shoots at the butts and wounds a man, though
it is against his will, he shall be called a trespasser against
his intent."

There is a series of later shooting cases, Weaver v. Ward, /3/
Dickenson v. Watson, /4/ and Underwood v. Hewson, /5/ followed by
the Court of Appeals of New York in Castle v. Duryee, /6/ in
which defences to the effect that the damage was done
accidentally and by misfortune, and against the will of the
defendant, were held insufficient.

In the reign of Queen Elizabeth it was held that where a man with
a gun at the door of his house shot at a fowl, and thereby set
fire to his own house and to the house of his neighbor, he was
liable in an action on the case generally, the declaration not
being on the custom of the realm, [88] "viz. for negligently
keeping his fire." "For the injury is the same, although this
mischance was not by a common negligence, but by misadventure."
/1/

The above-mentioned instances of the stick and shooting at butts
became standard illustrations; they are repeated by Sir Thomas
Raymond, in Bessey v. Olliot, /2/ by Sir William Blackstone, in
the famous squib case, /3/ and by other judges, and have become
familiar through the textbooks. Sir T. Raymond, in the above
case, also repeats the thought and almost the words of Littleton,
J., which have been quoted, and says further: "In all civil acts
the law doth not so much regard the intent of the actor, as the
loss and damage of the party suffering." Sir William Blackstone
also adopts a phrase from Dickenson v. Watson, just cited:
"Nothing but inevitable necessity" is a justification. So Lord
Ellenborough, in Leame v. Bray: /4/ "If the injury were received
from the personal act of another, it was deemed sufficient to
make it trespass"; or, according to the more frequently quoted
language of Grose, J., in the same case: "Looking into all the
cases from the Year Book in the 21 H. VII. down to the latest
decision on the subject, I find the principle to be, that if the
injury be done by the act of the party himself at the time, or he
be the immediate cause of it, though it happen accidentally or by
misfortune, yet he is answerable in trespass." Further citations
are deemed unnecessary.

In spite, however, of all the arguments which may be [89] urged
for the rule that a man acts at his peril, it has been rejected
by very eminent courts, even under the old forms of action. In
view of this fact, and of the further circumstance that, since
the old forms have been abolished, the allegation of negligence
has spread from the action on the case to all ordinary
declarations in tort which do not allege intent, probably many
lawyers would be surprised that any one should think it worth
while to go into the present discussion. Such is the natural
impression to be derived from daily practice. But even if the
doctrine under consideration had no longer any followers, which
is not the case, it would be well to have something more than
daily practice to sustain our views upon so fundamental a
question; as it seems to me at least, the true principle is far
from being articulately grasped by all who are interested in it,
and can only be arrived at after a careful analysis of what has
been thought hitherto. It might be thought enough to cite the
decisions opposed to the rule of absolute responsibility, and to
show that such a rule is inconsistent with admitted doctrines and
sound policy. But we may go further with profit, and inquire
whether there are not strong grounds for thinking that the common
law has never known such a rule, unless in that period of dry
precedent which is so often to be found midway between a creative
epoch and a period of solvent philosophical reaction.
Conciliating the attention of those who, contrary to most modern
practitioners, still adhere to the strict doctrine, by reminding
them once more that there are weighty decisions to be cited
adverse to it, and that, if they have involved an innovation, the
fact that it has been made by such magistrates as Chief Justice
Shaw goes far to prove that the change was politic, I [90] think
I may assert that a little reflection will show that it was
required not only by policy, but by consistency. I will begin
with the latter.

The same reasoning which would make a man answerable in trespass
for all damage to another by force directly resulting from his
own act, irrespective of negligence or intent, would make him
answerable in case for the like damage similarly resulting from
the act of his servant, in the course of the latter's employment.
The discussions of the company's negligence in many railway cases
would therefore be wholly out of place, for although, to be sure,
there is a contract which would make the company liable for
negligence, that contract cannot be taken to diminish any
liability which would otherwise exist for a trespass on the part
of its employees.

More than this, the same reasoning would make a defendant
responsible for all damage, however remote, of which his act
could be called the cause. So long, at least, as only physical or
irresponsible agencies, however unforeseen, co-operated with the
act complained of to produce the result, the argument which would
resolve the case of accidentally striking the plaintiff, when
lifting a stick in necessary self-defence, adversely to the
defendant, would require a decision against him in every case
where his act was a factor in the result complained of. The
distinction between a direct application of force, and causing
damage indirectly, or as a more remote consequence of one's act,
although it may determine whether the form of action should be
trespass or case, does not touch the theory of responsibility, if
that theory be that a man acts at his peril.

[91] As was said at the outset, if the strict liability is to be
maintained at all, it must be maintained throughout. A principle
cannot be stated which would retain the strict liability in
trespass while abandoning it in case. It cannot be said that
trespass is for acts alone, and case for consequences of those
acts. All actions of trespass are for consequences of acts, not
for the acts themselves. And some actions of trespass are for
consequences more remote from the defendant's act than in other
instances where the remedy would be case.

An act is always a voluntary muscular contraction, and nothing
else. The chain of physical sequences which it sets in motion or
directs to the plaintiff's harm is no part of it, and very
generally a long train of such sequences intervenes. An example
or two will make this extremely clear.

When a man commits an assault and battery with a pistol, his only
act is to contract the muscles of his arm and forefinger in a
certain way, but it is the delight of elementary writers to point
out what a vast series of physical changes must take place before
the harm is done. Suppose that, instead of firing a pistol, he
takes up a hose which is discharging water on the sidewalk, and
directs it at the plaintiff, he does not even set in motion the
physical causes which must co-operate with his act to make a
battery. Not only natural causes, but a living being, may
intervene between the act and its effect. Gibbons v. Pepper, /1/
which decided that there was no battery when a man's horse was
frightened by accident or a third person and ran away with him,
and ran over the plaintiff, takes the distinction that, if the
rider by spurring is the cause of [92] the accident, then he is
guilty. In Scott v. Shepherd, /1/ already mentioned, trespass was
maintained against one who had thrown a squib into a crowd, where
it was tossed from hand to hand in self-defence until it burst
and injured the plaintiff. Here even human agencies were a part
of the chain between the defendant's act and the result, although
they were treated as more or less nearly automatic, in order to
arrive at the decision.

Now I repeat, that, if principle requires us to charge a man in
trespass when his act has brought force to bear on another
through a comparatively short train of intervening causes, in
spite of his having used all possible care, it requires the same
liability, however numerous and unexpected the events between the
act and the result. If running a man down is a trespass when the
accident can be referred to the rider's act of spurring, why is
it not a tort in every case, as was argued in Vincent v.
Stinehour, /2/ seeing that it can always be referred more
remotely to his act of mounting and taking the horse out?

Why is a man not responsible for the consequences of an act
innocent in its direct and obvious effects, when those
consequences would not have followed but for the intervention of
a series of extraordinary, although natural, events? The reason
is, that, if the intervening events are of such a kind that no
foresight could have been expected to look out for them, the
defendant is not to blame for having failed to do so. It seems to
be admitted by the English judges that, even on the question
whether the acts of leaving dry trimmings in hot weather by the
side of a railroad, and then sending an engine over the track,
are [93] negligent,--that is, are a ground of liability,--the
consequences which might reasonably be anticipated are material.
/1/ Yet these are acts which, under the circumstances, can hardly
be called innocent in their natural and obvious effects. The same
doctrine has been applied to acts in violation of statute which
could not reasonably have been expected to lead to the result
complained of. /2/

But there is no difference in principle between the case where a
natural cause or physical factor intervenes after the act in some
way not to be foreseen, and turns what seemed innocent to harm,
and the case where such a cause or factor intervenes, unknown, at
the time; as, for the matter of that, it did in the English cases
cited. If a man is excused in the one case because he is not to
blame, he must be in the other. The difference taken in Gibbons
v. Pepper, cited above, is not between results which are and
those which are not the consequences of the defendant's acts: it
is between consequences which he was bound as a reasonable man to
contemplate, and those which he was not. Hard spurring is just so
much more likely to lead to harm than merely riding a horse in
the street, that the court thought that the defendant would be
bound to look out for the consequences of the one, while it would
not hold him liable for those resulting merely from the other;
[94] because the possibility of being run away with when riding
quietly, though familiar, is comparatively slight. If, however,
the horse had been unruly, and had been taken into a frequented
place for the purpose of being broken, the owner might have been
liable, because "it was his fault to bring a wild horse into a
place where mischief might probably be done."

To return to the example of the accidental blow with a stick
lifted in self-defence, there is no difference between hitting a
person standing in one's rear and hitting one who was pushed by a
horse within range of the stick just as it was lifted, provided
that it was not possible, under the circumstances, in the one
case to have known, in the other to have anticipated, the
proximity. In either case there is wanting the only element which
distinguishes voluntary acts from spasmodic muscular contractions
as a ground of liability. In neither of them, that is to say, has
there been an opportunity of choice with reference to the
consequence complained of,--a chance to guard against the result
which has come to pass. A choice which entails a concealed
consequence is as to that consequence no choice.

The general principle of our law is that loss from accident must
lie where it falls, and this principle is not affected by the
fact that a human being is the instrument of misfortune. But
relatively to a given human being anything is accident which he
could not fairly have been expected to contemplate as possible,
and therefore to avoid. In the language of the late Chief Justice
Nelson of New York: "No case or principle can be found, or if
found can be maintained, subjecting an individual to liability
for [95] an act done without fault on his part.... All the cases
concede that an injury arising from inevitable accident, or,
which in law or reason is the same thing, from an act that
ordinary human care and foresight are unable to guard against, is
but the misfortune of the sufferer, and lays no foundation for
legal responsibility." /1/ If this were not so, any act would be
sufficient, however remote, which set in motion or opened the
door for a series of physical sequences ending in damage; such as
riding the horse, in the case of the runaway, or even coming to a
place where one is seized with a fit and strikes the plaintiff in
an unconscious spasm. Nay, why need the defendant have acted at
all, and why is it not enough that his existence has been at the
expense of the plaintiff? The requirement of an act is the
requirement that the defendant should have made a choice. But the
only possible purpose of introducing this moral element is to
make the power of avoiding the evil complained of a condition of
liability. There is no such power where the evil cannot be
foreseen. /2/ Here we reach the argument from policy, and I shall
accordingly postpone for a moment the discussion of trespasses
upon land, and of conversions, and will take up the liability for
cattle separately at a later stage.

A man need not, it is true, do this or that act, the term act
implies a choice,--but he must act somehow. Furthermore, the
public generally profits by individual activity. As action cannot
be avoided, and tends to the public good, there is obviously no
policy in throwing the hazard of what is at once desirable and
inevitable upon the actor. [96] The state might conceivably make
itself a mutual insurance company against accidents, and
distribute the burden of its citizens' mishaps among all its
members. There might be a pension for paralytics, and state aid
for those who suffered in person or estate from tempest or wild
beasts. As between individuals it might adopt the mutual
insurance principle pro tanto, and divide damages when both were
in fault, as in the rusticum judicium of the admiralty, or it
might throw all loss upon the actor irrespective of fault. The
state does none of these things, however, and the prevailing view
is that its cumbrous and expensive machinery ought not to be set
in motion unless some clear benefit is to be derived from
disturbing the status quo. State interference is an evil, where
it cannot be shown to be a good. Universal insurance, if desired,
can be better and more cheaply accomplished by private
enterprise. The undertaking to redistribute losses simply on the
ground that they resulted from the defendant's act would not only
be open to these objections, but, as it is hoped the preceding
discussion has shown, to the still graver one of offending the
sense of justice. Unless my act is of a nature to threaten
others, unless under the circumstances a prudent man would have
foreseen the possibility of harm, it is no more justifiable to
make me indemnify my neighbor against the consequences, than to
make me do the same thing if I had fallen upon him in a fit, or
to compel me to insure him against lightning.

I must now recur to the conclusions drawn from innocent
trespasses upon land, and conversions, and the supposed analogy
of those cases to trespasses against the person, lest the law
concerning the latter should be supposed to lie between two
antinomies, each necessitating with equal cogency an opposite
conclusion to the other.

[97] Take first the case of trespass upon land attended by actual
damage. When a man goes upon his neighbor's land, thinking it is
his own, he intends the very act or consequence complained of. He
means to intermeddle with a certain thing in a certain way, and
it is just that intended intermeddling for which he is sued. /1/
Whereas, if he accidentally hits a stranger as he lifts his staff
in self defence, the fact, which is the gist of the
action,--namely, the contact between the staff and his neighbor's
head,--was not intended, and could not have been foreseen. It
might be answered, to be sure, that it is not for intermeddling
with property, but for intermeddling with the plaintiff's
property, that a man is sued; and that in the supposed cases,
just as much as in that of the accidental blow, the defendant is
ignorant of one of the facts making up the total environment, and
which must be present to make his action wrong. He is ignorant,
that is to say, that the true owner either has or claims any
interest in the property in question, and therefore he does not
intend a wrongful act, because he does not mean to deal with his
neighbor's property. But the answer to this is, that he does
intend to do the damage complained of. One who diminishes the
value of property by intentional damage knows it belongs to
somebody. If he thinks it belongs to himself, he expects whatever
harm he may do to come out of his own pocket. It would be odd if
he were to get rid of the burden by discovering that it belonged
to his neighbor. It is a very different thing to say that he who
intentionally does harm must bear the loss, from saying that one
from whose acts harm follows accidentally, as [98] a consequence
which could not have been foreseen, must bear it.

Next, suppose the act complained of is an exercise of dominion
over the plaintiff's property, such as a merely technical
trespass or a conversion. If the defendant thought that the
property belonged to himself, there seems to be no abstract
injustice in requiring him to know the limits of his own titles,
or, if he thought that it belonged to another, in holding him
bound to get proof of title before acting. Consider, too, what
the defendant's liability amounts to, if the act, whether an
entry upon land or a conversion of chattels, has been unattended
by damage to the property, and the thing has come back to the
hands of the true owner. The sum recovered is merely nominal, and
the payment is nothing more than a formal acknowledgment of the
owner's title; which, considering the effect of prescription and
statutes of limitation upon repeated acts of dominion, is no more
than right. /1/ All semblance of injustice disappears when the
defendant is allowed to avoid the costs of an action by tender or
otherwise.

But suppose the property has not come back to the hands of the
true owner. If the thing remains in the hands of the defendant,
it is clearly right that he should surrender it. And if instead
of the thing itself he holds the proceeds of a sale, it is as
reasonable to make him pay over its value in trover or assumpsit
as it would have been to compel a surrender of the thing. But the
question whether the defendant has subsequently paid over the
proceeds of the sale of a chattel to a third person, cannot
affect the rights of the true owner of the [99] chattel. In the
supposed case of an auctioneer, for instance, if he had paid the
true owner, it would have been an answer to his bailor's claim.
If he has paid his bailor instead, he has paid one whom he was
not bound to pay, and no general principle requires that this
should be held to divest the plaintiff's right.

Another consideration affecting the argument that the law as to
trespasses upon property establishes a general principle, is that
the defendant's knowledge or ignorance of the plaintiff's title
is likely to lie wholly in his own breast, and therefore hardly
admits of satisfactory proof. Indeed, in many cases it cannot
have been open to evidence at all at the time when the law was
settled, before parties were permitted to testify. Accordingly,
in Basely v. Clarkson, /1/ where the defence set up to an action
of trespass quare clausum was that the defendant in mowing his
own land involuntarily and by mistake mowed down some of the
plaintiff's grass, the plaintiff had judgment on demurrer. "For
it appears the fact was voluntary, and his intention and
knowledge are not traversable; they can't be known."

This language suggests that it would be sufficient to explain the
law of trespass upon property historically, without attempting to
justify it. For it seems to be admitted that if the defendant's
mistake could be proved it might be material. /2/ It will be
noticed, further, that any general argument from the law of
trespass upon laud to that governing trespass against the person
is shown to be misleading by the law as to cattle. The owner is
bound at his peril [100] to keep them off his neighbor's
premises, but he is not bound at his peril in all cases to keep
them from his neighbor's person.

The objections to such a decision as supposed in the case of an
auctioneer do not rest on the general theory of liability, but
spring altogether from the special exigencies of commerce. It
does not become unjust to hold a person liable for unauthorized
intermeddling with another's property, until there arises the
practical necessity for rapid dealing. But where this practical
necessity exists, it is not surprising to find, and we do find, a
different tendency in the law. The absolute protection of
property, however natural to a primitive community more occupied
in production than in exchange, is hardly consistent with the
requirements of modern business. Even when the rules which we
have been considering were established, the traffic of the public
markets was governed by more liberal principles. On the continent
of Europe it was long ago decided that the policy of protecting
titles must yield to the policy of protecting trade. Casaregis
held that the general principle nemo plus juris in alium
transferre potest quam ipse habet must give way in mercantile
transactions to possession vaut titre. /1/ In later times, as
markets overt have lost their importance, the Factors' Acts and
their successive amendments have tended more and more in the
direction of adopting the Continental doctrine.

I must preface the argument from precedent with a reference to
what has been said already in the first Lecture about early forms
of liability, and especially about [101] the appeals. It was
there shown that the appeals de pace et plagis and of mayhem
became the action of trespass, and that those appeals and the
early actions of trespass were always, so far as appears, for
intentional wrongs. /1/

The contra pacem in the writ of trespass was no doubt inserted to
lay a foundation for the king's writ; but there seems to be no
reason to attribute a similar purpose to vi et armis, or cum vi
sua, as it was often put. Glanvill says that wounds are within
the sheriff's jurisdiction, unless the appellor adds a charge of
breach of the king's peace. /2/ Yet the wounds are given vi et
armis as much in the one case as in the other. Bracton says that
the lesser wrongs described by him belong to the king's
jurisdiction, "because they are sometimes against the peace of
our lord the king," /3/ while, as has been observed, they were
supposed to be always committed intentionally. It might even
perhaps be inferred that the allegation contra pacem was
originally material, and it will be remembered that trespasses
formerly involved the liability to pay a fine to the king. /4/

If it be true that trespass was originally confined to
intentional wrongs, it is hardly necessary to consider the
argument drawn from the scope of the general issue. In form it
was a mitigation of the strict denial de verbo in verbum of the
ancient procedure, to which the inquest given by the king's writ
was unknown. /5/ The strict form seems to have lasted in England
some time after the trial of the issue by recognition was
introduced. /6/ When [102] a recognition was granted, the inquest
was, of course, only competent to speak to the facts, as has been
said above. /1/ When the general issue was introduced, trespass
was still confined to intentional wrongs.

We may now take up the authorities. It will be remembered that
the earlier precedents are of a date when the assize and jurata
had not given place to the modern jury. These bodies spoke from
their own knowledge to an issue defined by the writ, or to
certain familiar questions of fact arising in the trial of a
cause, but did not hear the whole case upon evidence adduced.
Their function was more limited than that which has been gained
by the jury, and it naturally happened that, when they had
declared what the defendant had done, the judges laid down the
standard by which those acts were to be measured without their
assistance. Hence the question in the Year Books is not a loose
or general inquiry of the jury whether they think the alleged
trespasser was negligent on such facts as they may find, but a
well-defined issue of law, to be determined by the court, whether
certain acts set forth upon the record are a ground of liability.
It is possible that the judges may have dealt pretty strictly
with defendants, and it is quite easy to pass from the premise
that defendants have been held trespassers for a variety of acts,
without mention of neglect, to the conclusion that any act by
which another was damaged will make the actor chargeable. But a
more exact scrutiny of the early books will show that liability
in general, then as later, was [103] founded on the opinion of
the tribunal that the defendant ought to have acted otherwise,
or, in other words, that he was to blame.

Returning first to the case of the thorns in the Year Book, /1/
it will be seen that the falling of the thorns into the
plaintiff's close, although a result not wished by the defendant,
was in no other sense against his will. When he cut the thorns,
he did an act which obviously and necessarily would have that
consequence, and he must be taken to have foreseen and not to
have prevented it. Choke, C. J. says, "As to what was said about
their falling in, ipso invito, that is no plea, but he ought to
show that he could not do it in any other way, or that he did all
in his power to keep them out"; and both the judges put the
unlawfulness of the entry upon the plaintiff's land as a
consequence of the unlawfulness of dropping the thorns there.
Choke admits that, if the thorns or a tree had been blown over
upon the plaintiff's land, the defendant might have entered to
get them. Chief Justice Crew says of this case, in Millen v.
Fawdry, /2/ that the opinion was that "trespass lies, because he
did not plead that he did his best endeavor to hinder their
falling there; yet this was a hard case." The statements of law
by counsel in argument may be left on one side, although Brian is
quoted and mistaken for one of the judges by Sir William
Blackstone, in Scott v. Shepherd.

The principal authorities are the shooting cases, and, as
shooting is an extra-hazardous act, it would not be surprising
if it should be held that men do it at their peril in public
places. The liability has been put on the general ground of
fault, however, wherever the line of necessary [104] precaution
may be drawn. In Weaver v. Ward, /1/ the defendant set up that
the plaintiff and he were skirmishing in a trainband, and that
when discharging his piece he wounded the plaintiff by accident
and misfortune, and against his own will. On demurrer, the court
says that "no man shall be excused of a trespass,... except it
may be judged utterly without his fault. As if a man by force
take my hand and strike you, or if here the defendant had said,
that the plaintiff ran cross his piece when it was discharging,
or had set forth the case with the circumstances so as it had
appeared to the court that it had been inevitable, and that the
defendant had committed no negligence to give occasion to the
hurt." The later cases simply follow Weaver v. Ward.

The quotations which were made above in favor of the strict
doctrine from Sir T. Raymond, in Bessey v. Olliot, and from Sir
William Blackstone, in Scott v. Shepherd, are both taken from
dissenting opinions. In the latter case it is pretty clear that
the majority of the court considered that to repel personal
danger by instantaneously tossing away a squib thrown by another
upon one's stall was not a trespass, although a new motion was
thereby imparted to the squib, and the plaintiff's eye was put
out in consequence. The last case cited above, in stating the
arguments for absolute responsibility, was Leame v. Bray. /2/ The
question under discussion was whether the action (for running
down the plaintiff) should not have been case rather than
trespass, the defendant founding his objection to trespass on the
ground that the injury happened through his neglect, but was not
done wilfully. There was therefore no question of absolute
responsibility for one's acts [105] before the court, as
negligence was admitted; and the language used is all directed
simply to the proposition that the damage need not have been done
intentionally.

In Wakeman v. Robinson, /1/another runaway case, there was
evidence that the defendant pulled the wrong rein, and that he
ought to have kept a straight course. The jury were instructed
that, if the injury was occasioned by an immediate act of the
defendant, it was immaterial whether the act was wilful or
accidental. On motion for a new trial, Dallas, C. J. said, "If
the accident happened entirely without default on the part of the
defendant, or blame imputable to him, the action does not lie
....The accident was clearly occasioned by the default of the
defendant. The weight of evidence was all that way. I am now
called upon to grant a new trial, contrary to the justice of the
case, upon the ground, that the jury were not called on to
consider whether the accident was unavoidable, or occasioned by
the fault of the defendant. There can be no doubt that the
learned judge who presided would have taken the opinion of the
jury on that ground, if he had been requested so to do." This
language may have been inapposite under the defendant's plea (the
general issue), but the pleadings were not adverted to, and the
doctrine is believed to be sound.

In America there have been several decisions to the point. In
Brown v. Kendall, /2/ Chief Justice Shaw settled the question for
Massachusetts. That was trespass for assault and battery, and it
appeared that the defendant, while trying to separate two
fighting dogs, had raised his stick over his shoulder in the act
of striking, and had accidentally hit the plaintiff in the eye,
inflicting upon him a [106] severe injury. The case was stronger
for the plaintiff than if the defendant had been acting in
self-defence; but the court held that, although the defendant was
bound by no duty to separate the dogs, yet, if he was doing a
lawful act, he was not liable unless he was wanting in the care
which men of ordinary prudence would use under the circumstances,
and that the burden was on the plaintiff to prove the want of
such care.

In such a matter no authority is more deserving of respect than
that of Chief Justice Shaw, for the strength of that great judge
lay in an accurate appreciation of the requirements of the
community whose officer he was. Some, indeed many, English judges
could be named who have surpassed him in accurate technical
knowledge, but few have lived who were his equals in their
understanding of the grounds of public policy to which all laws
must ultimately be referred. It was this which made him, in the
language of the late Judge Curtis, the greatest magistrate which
this country has produced.

Brown v. Kendall has been followed in Connecticut, /1/ in a case
where a man fired a pistol, in lawful self-defence as he alleged,
and hit a bystander. The court was strongly of opinion that the
defendant was not answerable on the general principles of
trespass, unless there was a failure to use such care as was
practicable under the circumstances. The foundation of liability
in trespass as well as case was said to be negligence. The
Supreme Court of the United States has given the sanction of its
approval to the same doctrine. /2/ The language of Harvey v.
Dunlop /3/ has been [107] quoted, and there is a case in Vermont
which tends in the same direction. /1/

Supposing it now to be conceded that the general notion upon
which liability to an action is founded is fault or
blameworthiness in some sense, the question arises, whether it is
so in the sense of personal moral shortcoming, as would
practically result from Austin's teaching. The language of Rede,
J., which has been quoted from the Year Book, gives a sufficient
answer. "In trespass the intent" (we may say more broadly, the
defendant's state of mind) "cannot be construed." Suppose that a
defendant were allowed to testify that, before acting, he
considered carefully what would be the conduct of a prudent man
under the circumstances, and, having formed the best judgment he
could, acted accordingly. If the story was believed, it would be
conclusive against the defendant's negligence judged by a moral
standard which would take his personal characteristics into
account. But supposing any such evidence to have got before the
jury, it is very clear that the court would say, Gentlemen, the
question is not whether the defendant thought his conduct was
that of a prudent man, but whether you think it was. /2/

Some middle point must be found between the horns of this
dilemma.

[108 The standards of the law are standards of general
application. The law takes no account of the infinite varieties
of temperament, intellect, and education which make the internal
character of a given act so different in different men. It does
not attempt to see men as God sees them, for more than one
sufficient reason. In the first place, the impossibility of
nicely measuring a man's powers and limitations is far clearer
than that of ascertaining his knowledge of law, which has been
thought to account for what is called the presumption that every
man knows the law. But a more satisfactory explanation is, that,
when men live in society, a certain average of conduct, a
sacrifice of individual peculiarities going beyond a certain
point, is necessary to the general welfare. If, for instance, a
man is born hasty and awkward, is always having accidents and
hurting himself or his neighbors, no doubt his congenital defects
will be allowed for in the courts of Heaven, but his slips are no
less troublesome to his neighbors than if they sprang from guilty
neglect. His neighbors accordingly require him, at his proper
peril, to come up to their standard, and the courts which they
establish decline to take his personal equation into account.

The rule that the law does, in general, determine liability by
blameworthiness, is subject to the limitation that minute
differences of character are not allowed for. The law considers,
in other words, what would be blameworthy in the average man, the
man of ordinary intelligence and prudence, and determines
liability by that. If we fall below the level in those gifts, it
is our misfortune; so much as that we must have at our peril, for
the reasons just given. But he who is intelligent and prudent
does not act at his peril, in theory of law. On the contrary, it
is [109] only when he fails to exercise the foresight of which he
is capable, or exercises it with evil intent, that he is
answerable for the consequences.

There are exceptions to the principle that every man is presumed
to possess ordinary capacity to avoid harm to his neighbors,
which illustrate the rule, and also the moral basis of liability
in general. When a man has a distinct defect of such a nature
that all can recognize it as making certain precautions
impossible, he will not be held answerable for not taking them. A
blind man is not required to see at his peril; and although he
is, no doubt, bound to consider his infirmity in regulating his
actions, yet if he properly finds himself in a certain situation,
the neglect of precautions requiring eyesight would not prevent
his recovering for an injury to himself, and, it may be presumed,
would not make him liable for injuring another. So it is held
that, in cases where he is the plaintiff, an infant of very
tender years is only bound to take the precautions of which an
infant is capable; the same principle may be cautiously applied
where he is defendant. /1/ Insanity is a more difficult matter to
deal with, and no general rule can be laid down about it. There
is no doubt that in many cases a man may be insane, and yet
perfectly capable of taking the precautions, and of being
influenced by the motives, which the circumstances demand. But if
insanity of a pronounced type exists, manifestly incapacitating
the sufferer from complying with the rule which he has broken,
good sense would require it to be admitted as an excuse.

Taking the qualification last established in connection with the
general proposition previously laid down, it will [110] now be
assumed that, on the one hand, the law presumes or requires a man
to possess ordinary capacity to avoid harming his neighbors,
unless a clear and manifest incapacity be shown; but that, on the
other, it does not in general hold him liable for unintentional
injury, unless, possessing such capacity, he might and ought to
have foreseen the danger, or, in other words, unless a man of
ordinary intelligence and forethought would have been to blame
for acting as he did. The next question is, whether this vague
test is all that the law has to say upon the matter, and the same
question in another form, by whom this test is to be applied.

Notwithstanding the fact that the grounds of legal liability are
moral to the extent above explained, it must be borne in mind
that law only works within the sphere of the senses. If the
external phenomena, the manifest acts and omissions, are such as
it requires, it is wholly indifferent to the internal phenomena
of conscience. A man may have as bad a heart as he chooses, if
his conduct is within the rules. In other words, the standards of
the law are external standards, and, however much it may take
moral considerations into account, it does so only for the
purpose of drawing a line between such bodily motions and rests
as it permits, and such as it does not. What the law really
forbids, and the only thing it forbids, is the act on the wrong
side of the line, be that act blameworthy or otherwise.

Again, any legal standard must, in theory, be one which would
apply to all men, not specially excepted, under the same
circumstances. It is not intended that the public force should
fall upon an individual accidentally, or at the whim of any body
of men. The standard, that is, [111] must be fixed. In practice,
no doubt, one man may have to pay and another may escape,
according to the different feelings of different juries. But this
merely shows that the law does not perfectly accomplish its ends.
The theory or intention of the law is not that the feeling of
approbation or blame which a particular twelve may entertain
should be the criterion. They are supposed to leave their
idiosyncrasies on one side, and to represent the feeling of the
community. The ideal average prudent man, whose equivalent the
jury is taken to be in many cases, and whose culpability or
innocence is the supposed test, is a constant, and his conduct
under given circumstances is theoretically always the same.

Finally, any legal standard must, in theory, be capable of being
known. When a man has to pay damages, he is supposed to have
broken the law, and he is further supposed to have known what the
law was.

If, now, the ordinary liabilities in tort arise from failure to
comply with fixed and uniform standards of external conduct,
which every man is presumed and required to know, it is obvious
that it ought to be possible, sooner or later, to formulate these
standards at least to some extent, and that to do so must at last
be the business of the court. It is equally clear that the
featureless generality, that the defendant was bound to use such
care as a prudent man would do under the circumstances, ought to
be continually giving place to the specific one, that he was
bound to use this or that precaution under these or those
circumstances. The standard which the defendant was bound to come
up to was a standard of specific acts or omissions, with
reference to the specific circumstances in which he found
himself. If in the whole department of [112] unintentional wrongs
the courts arrived at no further utterance than the question of
negligence, and left every case, without rudder or compass, to
the jury, they would simply confess their inability to state a
very large part of the law which they required the defendant to
know, and would assert, by implication, that nothing could be
learned by experience. But neither courts nor legislatures have
ever stopped at that point.

From the time of Alfred to the present day, statutes and
decisions have busied themselves with defining the precautions to
be taken in certain familiar cases; that is, with substituting
for the vague test of the care exercised by a prudent man, a
precise one of specific acts or omissions. The fundamental
thought is still the same, that the way prescribed is that in
which prudent men are in the habit of acting, or else is one laid
down for cases where prudent men might otherwise be in doubt.

It will be observed that the existence of the external tests of
liability which will be mentioned, while it illustrates the
tendency of the law of tort to become more and more concrete by
judicial decision and by statute, does not interfere with the
general doctrine maintained as to the grounds of liability. The
argument of this Lecture, although opposed to the doctrine that a
man acts or exerts force at his peril, is by no means opposed to
the doctrine that he does certain particular acts at his peril.
It is the coarseness, not the nature, of the standard which is
objected to. If, when the question of the defendant's negligence
is left to a jury, negligence does not mean the actual state of
the defendant's mind, but a failure to act as a prudent man of
average intelligence would have done, he is required to conform
to an objective standard at his [113] peril, even in that case.
When a more exact and specific rule has been arrived at, he must
obey that rule at his peril to the same extent. But, further, if
the law is wholly a standard of external conduct, a man must
always comply with that standard at his peril.

Some examples of the process of specification will be useful. In
LL. Alfred, 36, /1/ providing for the case of a man's staking
himself on a spear carried by another, we read, "Let this
(liability) be if the point be three fingers higher than the
hindmost part of the shaft; if they be both on a level,... be
that without danger."

The rule of the road and the sailing rules adopted by Congress
from England are modern examples of such statutes. By the former
rule, the question has been narrowed from the vague one, Was the
party negligent? to the precise one, Was he on the right or left
of the road? To avoid a possible misconception, it may be
observed that, of course, this question does not necessarily and
under all circumstances decide that of liability; a plaintiff may
have been on the wrong side of the road, as he may have been
negligent, and yet the conduct of the defendant may have been
unjustifiable, and a ground of liability. /2/ So, no doubt, a
defendant could justify or excuse being on the wrong side, under
some circumstances. The difference between alleging that a
defendant was on the wrong side of the road, and that he was
negligent, is the difference between an allegation of facts
requiring to be excused by a counter allegation of further facts
to prevent their being a ground of liability, and an allegation
which involves a conclusion of law, and denies in advance the
existence of an [114] excuse. Whether the former allegation ought
not to be enough, and whether the establishment of the fact ought
not to shift the burden of proof, are questions which belong to
the theory of pleading and evidence, and could be answered either
way consistently with analogy. I should have no difficulty in
saying that the allegation of facts which are ordinarily a ground
of liability, and which would be so unless excused, ought to be
sufficient. But the forms of the law, especially the forms of
pleading, do not change with every change of its substance, and a
prudent lawyer would use the broader and safer phrase.

The same course of specification which has been illustrated from
the statute-book ought also to be taking place in the growth of
judicial decisions. That this should happen is in accordance with
the past history of the law. It has been suggested already that
in the days of the assize and jurata the court decided whether
the facts constituted a ground of liability in all ordinary
cases. A question of negligence might, no doubt, have gone to the
jury. Common sense and common knowledge are as often sufficient
to determine whether proper care has been taken of an animal, as
they are to say whether A or B owns it. The cases which first
arose were not of a kind to suggest analysis, and negligence was
used as a proximately simple element for a long time before the
need or possibility of analysis was felt. Still, when an issue of
this sort is found, the dispute is rather what the acts or
omissions of the defendant were than on the standard of conduct.
/1/ The [115] distinction between the functions of court and jury
does not come in question until the parties differ as to the
standard of conduct. Negligence, like ownership, is a complex
conception. Just as the latter imports the existence of certain
facts, and also the consequence (protection against all the
world) which the law attaches to those facts; the former imports
the existence of certain facts (conduct) and also the consequence
(liability) which the law attaches to those facts. In most cases
the question is upon the facts, and it is only occasionally that
one arises on the consequence.

It will have been noticed how the judges pass on the defendant's
acts (on grounds of fault and public policy) in the case of the
thorns, and that in Weaver v. Ward /1/it is said that the facts
constituting an excuse, and showing that the defendant was free
from negligence, should have been spread upon the record, in
order that the court might judge. A similar requirement was laid
down with regard to the defence of probable cause in an action
for malicious prosecution. /2/ And to this day the question of
probable cause is always passed on by the court. Later evidence
will be found in what follows.

There is, however, an important consideration, which has not yet
been adverted to. It is undoubtedly possible that those who have
the making of the law should deem it wise to put the mark higher
in some cases than the point established by common practice at
which blameworthiness begins. For instance, in Morris v. Platt,
/2/ the court, while declaring in the strongest terms that, in
general, [116] negligence is the foundation of liability for
accidental trespasses, nevertheless hints that, if a decision of
the point were necessary, it might hold a defendant to a stricter
rule where the damage was caused by a pistol, in view of the
danger to the public of the growing habit of carrying deadly
weapons. Again, it might well seem that to enter a man's house
for the purpose of carrying a present, or inquiring after his
health when he was ill, was a harmless and rather praiseworthy
act, although crossing the owner's boundary was intentional. It
is not supposed that an action would lie at the present day for
such a cause, unless the defendant had been forbidden the house.
Yet in the time of Henry VIII. it was said to be actionable if
without license, "for then under that color my enemy might be in
my house and kill me." /1/ There is a clear case where public
policy establishes a standard of overt acts without regard to
fault in any sense. In like manner, policy established exceptions
to the general prohibition against entering another's premises,
as in the instance put by Chief Justice Choke in the Year Book,
of a tree being blown over upon them, or when the highway became
impassable, or for the purpose of keeping the peace. /2/

Another example may perhaps be found in the shape which has been
given in modern times to the liability for animals, and in the
derivative principle of Rylands v. Fletcher, /3/ that when a
person brings on his lands, and collects and keeps there,
anything likely to do mischief if it escapes, he must keep it in
at his peril; and, if he does not do so, is prima facie
answerable for all the [117] damage which is the natural
consequence of its escape. Cases of this sort do not stand on the
notion that it is wrong to keep cattle, or to have a reservoir of
water, as might have been thought with more plausibility when
fierce and useless animals only were in question. /1/ It may even
be very much for the public good that the dangerous accumulation
should be made (a consideration which might influence the
decision in some instances, and differently in different
jurisdictions); but as there is a limit to the nicety of inquiry
which is possible in a trial, it may be considered that the
safest way to secure care is to throw the risk upon the person
who decides what precautions shall be taken. The liability for
trespasses of cattle seems to lie on the boundary line between
rules based on policy irrespective of fault, and requirements
intended to formulate the conduct of a prudent man.

It has been shown in the first Lecture how this liability for
cattle arose in the early law, and how far the influence of early
notions might be traced in the law of today, Subject to what is
there said, it is evident that the early discussions turn on the
general consideration whether the owner is or is not to blame.
/2/ But they do not stop there: they go on to take practical
distinctions, based on common experience. Thus, when the
defendant chased sheep out of his land with a dog, and as soon as
the sheep were out called in his dog, but the dog pursued them
into adjoining land, the chasing of the sheep beyond the
defendant's line was held no trespass, because "the nature of a
dog is such that he cannot be ruled suddenly." /3/

[118] It was lawful in ploughing to turn the horses on adjoining
land, and if while so turning the beasts took a mouthful of
grass, or subverted the soil with the plough, against the will of
the driver, he had a good justification, because the law will
recognize that a man cannot at every instant govern his cattle as
he will. /1/ So it was said that, if a man be driving cattle
through a town, and one of them goes into another man's house,
and he follows him, trespass does not lie for this. /2/ So it was
said by Doderidge, J., in the same case, that if deer come into
my land out of the forest, and I chase them with dogs, it is
excuse enough for me to wind my horn to recall the dogs, because
by this the warden of the forest has notice that a deer is being
chased. /3/

The very case of Mason v. Keeling, /4/ which is referred to in
the first Lecture for its echo of primitive notions, shows that
the working rules of the law had long been founded on good sense.
With regard to animals not then treated as property, which in the
main were the wilder animals, the law was settled that, "if they
are of a tame nature, there must be notice of the ill quality;
and the law takes notice, that a dog is not of a fierce nature,
but rather the contrary." /5/ If the animals "are such as are
naturally [119] mischievous in their kind, he shall answer for
hurt done by them, without any notice." /1/ The latter principle
has been applied to the case of a bear, /2/ and amply accounts
for the liability of the owner of such animals as horses and oxen
in respect of trespasses upon land, although, as has been seen,
it was at one time thought to stand upon his ownership. It is
said to be the universal nature of cattle to stray, and, when
straying in cultivated land, to do damage by trampling down and
eating the crops, whereas a dog does no harm. It is also said to
be usual and easy to restrain them. /3/ If, as has been
suggested, the historical origin of the rule was different, it
does not matter.

Following the same line of thought, the owner of cattle is not
held absolutely answerable for all damage which they may do the
person. According to Lord Holt in the alcove opinion, these
animals, "which are not so familiar to mankind" as dogs, "the
owner ought to confine, and take all reasonable caution that they
do no mischief.... But... if the owner puts a horse or an ox to
grass in his field, which is adjoining to the highway, and the
horse or the ox breaks the hedge and runs into the highway, and
kicks or gores some passenger, an action will not lie against the
owner; otherwise, if he had notice that they had done such a
thing before."

[120] Perhaps the most striking authority for the position that
the judge's duties are not at an end when the question of
negligence is reached, is shown by the discussions concerning the
law of bailment. Consider the judgment in Coggs v. Bernard, /1/
the treatises of Sir William Jones and Story, and the chapter of
Kent upon the subject. They are so many attempts to state the
duty of the bailee specifically, according to the nature of the
bailment and of the object bailed. Those attempts, to be sure,
were not successful, partly because they were attempts to engraft
upon the native stock a branch of the Roman law which was too
large to survive the process, but more especially because the
distinctions attempted were purely qualitative, and were
therefore useless when dealing with a jury. /2/ To instruct a
jury that they must find the defendant guilty of gross negligence
before he can be charged, is open to the reproach that for such a
body the word "gross" is only a vituperative epithet. But it
would not be so with a judge sitting in admiralty without a jury.
The Roman law and the Supreme Court of the United States agree
that the word means something. /3/ Successful or not, it is
enough for the present argument that the attempt has been made.

The principles of substantive law which have been established by
the courts are believed to have been somewhat obscured by having
presented themselves oftenest in the form of rulings upon the
sufficiency of evidence. When a judge rules that there is no
evidence of negligence, he does something more than is embraced
in an ordinary ruling that there is no evidence of a fact. He
rules that [121] acts or omissions proved or in question do not
constitute a ground of legal liability, and in this way the law
is gradually enriching itself from daily life, as it should.
Thus, in Crafton v. Metropolitan Railway Co., /1/ the plaintiff
slipped on the defendant's stairs and was severely hurt. The
cause of his slipping was that the brass nosing of the stairs had
been worn smooth by travel over it, and a builder testified that
in his opinion the staircase was unsafe by reason of this
circumstance and the absence of a hand-rail. There was nothing to
contradict this except that great numbers of persons had passed
over the stairs and that no accident had happened there, and the
plaintiff had a verdict. The court set the verdict aside, and
ordered a nonsuit. The ruling was in form that there was no
evidence of negligence to go to the jury; but this was obviously
equivalent to saying, and did in fact mean, that the railroad
company had done all that it was bound to do in maintaining such
a staircase as was proved by the plaintiff. A hundred other
equally concrete instances will be found in the text-books.

On the other hand, if the court should rule that certain acts or
omissions coupled with damage were conclusive evidence of
negligence unless explained, it would, in substance and in truth,
rule that such acts or omissions were a ground of liability, /2/
or prevented a recovery, as the case might be. Thus it is said to
be actionable negligence to let a house for a dwelling knowing it
to be so infected with small-pox as to be dangerous to health,
and concealing the knowledge. /3/ To explain the acts or
omissions in such a [122] case would be to prove different
conduct from that ruled upon, or to show that they were not,
juridically speaking, the cause of the damage complained of. The
ruling assumes, for the purposes of the ruling, that the facts in
evidence are all the facts.

The cases which have raised difficulties needing explanation are
those in which the court has ruled that there was prima facie
evidence of negligence, or some evidence of negligence to go to
the jury.

Many have noticed the confusion of thought implied in speaking of
such cases as presenting mixed questions of law and fact. No
doubt, as has been said above, the averment that the defendant
has been guilty of negligence is a complex one: first, that he
has done or omitted certain things; second, that his alleged
conduct does not come up to the legal standard. And so long as
the controversy is simply on the first half, the whole complex
averment is plain matter for the jury without special
instructions, just as a question of ownership would be where the
only dispute was as to the fact upon which the legal conclusion
was founded. /1/ But when a controversy arises on the second
half, the question whether the court or the jury ought to judge
of the defendant's conduct is wholly unaffected by the accident,
whether there is or is not also a dispute as to what that conduct
was. If there is such a dispute, it is entirely possible to give
a series of hypothetical instructions adapted to every state of
facts which it is open to the jury to find. If there is no such
dispute, the court may still take their opinion as to the
standard. The problem is [123] to explain the relative functions
of court and jury with regard to the latter.

When a case arises in which the standard of conduct, pure and
simple, is submitted to the jury, the explanation is plain. It is
that the court, not entertaining any clear views of public policy
applicable to the matter, derives the rule to be applied from
daily experience, as it has been agreed that the great body of
the law of tort has been derived. But the court further feels
that it is not itself possessed of sufficient practical
experience to lay down the rule intelligently. It conceives that
twelve men taken from the practical part of the community can aid
its judgment. /1/ Therefore it aids its conscience by taking the
opinion of the jury.

But supposing a state of facts often repeated in practice, is it
to be imagined that the court is to go on leaving the standard to
the jury forever? Is it not manifest, on the contrary, that if
the jury is, on the whole, as fair a tribunal as it is
represented to be, the lesson which can be got from that source
will be learned? Either the court will find that the fair
teaching of experience is that the conduct complained of usually
is or is not blameworthy, and therefore, unless explained, is or
is not a ground of liability; or it will find the jury
oscillating to and fro, and will see the necessity of making up
its mind for itself. There is no reason why any other such
question should not be settled, as well as that of liability for
stairs with smooth strips of brass upon their edges. The
exceptions would mainly be found where the standard was rapidly
changing, as, for instance, in some questions of medical
treatment. /2/

[124] If this be the proper conclusion in plain cases, further
consequences ensue. Facts do not often exactly repeat themselves
in practice; but cases with comparatively small variations from
each other do. A judge who has long sat at nisi prius ought
gradually to acquire a fund of experience which enables him to
represent the common sense of the community in ordinary instances
far better than an average jury. He should be able to lead and to
instruct them in detail, even where he thinks it desirable, on
the whole, to take their opinion. Furthermore, the sphere in
which he is able to rule without taking their opinion at all
should be continually growing.

It has often been said, that negligence is pure matter of fact,
or that, after the court has declared the evidence to be such
that negligence may be inferred from it, the jury are always to
decide whether the inference shall be drawn. /1/ But it is
believed that the courts, when they lay down this broad
proposition, are thinking of cases where the conduct to be passed
upon is not proved directly, and the main or only question is
what that conduct was, not what standard shall be applied to it
after it is established.

Most cases which go to the jury on a ruling that there is
evidence from which they may find negligence, do not go to them
principally on account of a doubt as to the standard, but of a
doubt as to the conduct. Take the case where the fact in proof is
an event such as the dropping of a brick from a railway bridge
over a highway upon the plaintiff, the fact must be inferred that
the dropping was [125] due, not to a sudden operation of weather,
but to a gradual falling out of repair which it was physically
possible for the defendant to have prevented, before there can be
any question as to the standard of conduct. /1/

So, in the case of a barrel falling from a warehouse window, it
must be found that the defendant or his servants were in charge
of it, before any question of standard can arise. /2/ It will be
seen that in each of these well-known cases the court assumed a
rule which would make the defendant liable if his conduct was
such as the evidence tended to prove. When there is no question
as to the conduct established by the evidence, as in the case of
a collision between two trains belonging to the same company, the
jury have, sometimes at least, been told in effect that, if they
believed the evidence, the defendant was liable. /3/

The principal argument that is urged in favor of the view that a
more extended function belongs to the jury as matter of right, is
the necessity of continually conforming our standards to
experience. No doubt the general foundation of legal liability in
blameworthiness, as determined by the existing average standards
of the community, should always be kept in mind, for the purpose
of keeping such concrete rules as from time to time may be laid
down conformable to daily life. No doubt this conformity is the
practical justification for requiring a man to know the civil
law, as the fact that crimes are also generally sins is one of
the practical justifications for requiring a man to know the
criminal law. But these considerations only lead to [126] the
conclusion that precedents should be overruled when they become
inconsistent with present conditions; and this has generally
happened, except with regard to the construction of deeds and
wills. On the other hand, it is very desirable to know as nearly
as we can the standard by which we shall be judged at a given
moment, and, moreover, the standards for a very large part of
human conduct do not vary from century to century.

The considerations urged in this Lecture are of peculiar
importance in this country, or at least in States where the law
is as it stands in Massachusetts. In England, the judges at nisi
prius express their opinions freely on the value and weight of
the evidence, and the judges in banc, by consent of parties,
constantly draw inferences of fact. Hence nice distinctions as to
the province of court and jury are not of the first necessity.
But when judges are forbidden by statute to charge the jury with
respect to matters of fact, and when the court in banc will never
hear a case calling for inferences of fact, it becomes of vital
importance to understand that, when standards of conduct are left
to the jury, it is a temporary surrender of a judicial function
which may be resumed at any moment in any case when the court
feels competent to do so. Were this not so, the almost universal
acceptance of the first proposition in this Lecture, that the
general foundation of liability for unintentional wrongs is
conduct different from that of a prudent man under the
circumstances, would leave all our rights and duties throughout a
great part of the law to the necessarily more or less accidental
feelings of a jury.

It is perfectly consistent with the views maintained in this
Lecture that the courts have been very slow to withdraw questions
of negligence from the jury, without distinguishing [127] nicely
whether the doubt concerned the facts or the standard to be
applied. Legal, like natural divisions, however clear in their
general outline, will be found on exact scrutiny to end in a
penumbra or debatable land. This is the region of the jury, and
only cases falling on this doubtful border are likely to be
carried far in court. Still, the tendency of the law must always
be to narrow the field of uncertainty. That is what analogy, as
well as the decisions on this very subject, would lead us to
expect.

The growth of the law is very apt to take place in this way. Two
widely different cases suggest a general distinction, which is a
clear one when stated broadly. But as new eases cluster around
the opposite poles, and begin to approach each other, the
distinction becomes more difficult to trace; the determinations
are made one way or the other on a very slight preponderance of
feeling, rather than of articulate reason; and at last a
mathematical line is arrived at by the contact of contrary
decisions, which is so far arbitrary that it might equally well
have been drawn a little farther to the one side or to the other,
but which must have been drawn somewhere in the neighborhood of
where it falls. /1/

In this way exact distinctions have been worked out upon
questions in which the elements to be considered are few. For
instance, what is a reasonable time for presenting negotiable
paper, or what is a difference in kind and what a difference only
in quality, or the rule against perpetuities.

An example of the approach of decisions towards each other from
the opposite poles, and of the function of the jury midway, is to
be found in the Massachusetts adjudications, [128] that, if a
child of two years and four months is unnecessarily sent
unattended across and down a street in a large city, he cannot
recover for a negligent injury; /1/ that to allow a boy of eight
to be abroad alone is not necessarily negligent; /2/ and that the
effect of permitting a boy of ten to be abroad after dark is for
the jury; /3/ a coupled with the statement, which may be ventured
on without authority, that such a permission to a young man of
twenty possessed of common intelligence has no effect whatever.

Take again the law of ancient lights in England. An obstruction
to be actionable must be substantial. Under ordinary
circumstances the erection of a structure a hundred yards off,
and one foot above the ground, would not be actionable. One
within a foot of the window, and covering it, would be, without
any finding of a jury beyond these facts. In doubtful cases
midway, the question whether the interference was substantial has
been left to the jury. /4/ But as the elements are few and
permanent, an inclination has been shown to lay down a definite
rule, that, in ordinary cases, the building complained of must
not be higher than the distance of its base from the dominant
windows. And although this attempt to work out an exact line
requires much caution, it is entirely philosophical in spirit.
/5/

The same principle applies to negligence. If the whole evidence
in the case was that a party, in full command of [129] senses and
intellect, stood on a railway track, looking at an approaching
engine until it ran him down, no judge would leave it to the jury
to say whether the conduct was prudent. If the whole evidence was
that he attempted to cross a level track, which was visible for
half a mile each way, and on which no engine was in sight, no
court would allow a jury to find negligence. Between these
extremes are cases which would go to the jury. But it is obvious
that the limit of safety in such cases, supposing no further
elements present, could be determined to a foot by mathematical
calculation.

The trouble with many cases of negligence is, that they are of a
kind not frequently recurring, so as to enable any given judge to
profit by long experience with juries to lay down rules, and that
the elements are so complex that courts are glad to leave the
whole matter in a lump for the jury's determination.

I reserve the relation between negligent and other torts for the
next Lecture.




LECTURE IV. -- FRAUD, MALICE, AND INTENT.--THE THEORY OF TORTS.

[130] The next subjects to be considered are fraud, malice, and
intent. In the discussion of unintentional wrongs, the greatest
difficulty to be overcome was found to be the doctrine that a man
acts always at his peril. In what follows, on the other hand, the
difficulty will be to prove that actual wickedness of the kind
described by the several words just mentioned is not an element
in the civil wrongs to which those words are applied.

It has been shown, in dealing with the criminal law, that, when
we call an act malicious in common speech, we mean that harm to
another person was intended to come of it, and that such harm was
desired for its own sake as an end in itself. For the purposes of
the criminal law, however, intent alone was found to be
important, and to have the same consequences as intent with
malevolence superadded. Pursuing the analysis, intent was found
to be made up of foresight of the harm as a consequence, coupled
with a desire to bring it about, the latter being conceived as
the motive for the act in question. Of these, again, foresight
only seemed material. As a last step, foresight was reduced to
its lowest term, and it was concluded that, subject to exceptions
which were explained, the general basis of criminal liability was
knowledge, at the time of action, [131] of facts from which
common experience showed that certain harmful results were likely
to follow.

It remains to be seen whether a similar reduction is possible on
the civil side of the law, and whether thus fraudulent,
malicious, intentional, and negligent wrongs can be brought into
a philosophically continuous series.

A word of preliminary explanation will be useful. It has been
shown in the Lecture just referred to that an act, although
always importing intent, is per se indifferent to the law. It is
a willed, and therefore an intended coordination of muscular
contractions. But the intent necessarily imported by the act ends
there. And all muscular motions or co-ordinations of them are
harmless apart from concomitant circumstances, the presence of
which is not necessarily implied by the act itself. To strike out
with the fist is the same act, whether done in a desert or in a
crowd.

The same considerations which have been urged to show that an act
alone, by itself, does not and ought not to impose either civil
or criminal liability, apply, at least frequently, to a series of
acts, or to conduct, although the series shows a further
co-ordination and a further intent. For instance, it is the same
series of acts to utter a sentence falsely stating that a certain
barrel contains No. 1 Mackerel, whether the sentence is uttered
in the secrecy of the closet, or to another man in the course of
a bargain. There is, to be sure, in either case, the further
intent, beyond the co-ordination of muscles for a single sound,
to allege that a certain barrel has certain contents,--an intent
necessarily shown by the ordering of the words. But both the
series of acts and the intent are per se indifferent. They are
innocent when spoken in solitude, and [132] are only a ground of
liability when certain concomitant circumstances are shown.

The intent which is meant when spoken of as an element of legal
liability is an intent directed toward the harm complained of, or
at least toward harm. It is not necessary in every case to carry
the analysis back to the simple muscular contractions out of
which a course of conduct is made up. On the same principle that
requires something more than an act followed by damage to make a
man liable, we constantly find ourselves at liberty to assume a
co-ordinated series of acts as a proximately simple element, per
se indifferent, in considering what further circumstances or
facts must be present before the conduct in question is at the
actor's peril. It will save confusion and the need of repetition
if this is borne in mind in the following discussion.

The chief forms of liability in which fraud, malice, and intent
are said to be necessary elements, are deceit, slander and libel,
malicious prosecution, and conspiracy, to which, perhaps, may be
added trover.

Deceit is a notion drawn from the moral world, and in its popular
sense distinctly imports wickedness. The doctrine of the common
law with regard to it is generally stated in terms which are only
consistent with actual guilt, and all actual guilty intent. It is
said that a man is liable to an action for deceit if he makes a
false representation to another, knowing it to be false, but
intending that the other should believe and act upon it, if the
person addressed believes it, and is thereby persuaded to act to
his own harm. This is no doubt the typical case, and it is a case
of intentional moral wrong. Now, what is the party's conduct
here. It consists in uttering certain words, [133] so ordered
that the utterance of them imports a knowledge of the meaning
which they would convey if heard. But that conduct with only that
knowledge is neither moral nor immoral. Go one step further, and
add the knowledge of another's presence within hearing, still the
act has no determinate character. The elements which make it
immoral are the knowledge that the statement is false, and the
intent that it shall be acted on.

The principal question then is, whether this intent can be
reduced to the same terms as it has been in other cases. There is
no difficulty in the answer. It is perfectly clear that the
intent that a false representation should be acted on would be
conclusively established by proof that the defendant knew that
the other party intended to act upon it. If the defendant foresaw
the consequence of his acts, he is chargeable, whether his motive
was a desire to induce the other party to act, or simply an
unwillingness for private reasons to state the truth. If the
defendant knew a present fact (the other party's intent), which,
according to common experience, made it likely that his act would
have the harmful consequence, he is chargeable, whether he in
fact foresaw the consequence or not.

In this matter the general conclusion follows from a single
instance. For the moment it is admitted that in one case
knowledge of a present fact, such as the other party's intent to
act on the false statement, dispenses with proof of an intent to
induce him to act upon it, it is admitted that the lesser element
is all that is necessary in the larger compound. For intent
embraces knowledge sufficing for foresight, as has been shown.
Hence, when you prove intent you prove knowledge, and intent may
often [134] be the easier to prove of the two. But when you prove
knowledge you do not prove intent.

It may be said, however, that intent is implied or presumed in
such a case as has been supposed. But this is only helping out a
false theory by a fiction. It is very much like saying that a
consideration is presumed for an instrument under seal; which is
merely a way of reconciling the formal theory that all contracts
must have a consideration with the manifest fact that sealed
instruments do not require one. Whenever it is said that a
certain thing is essential to liability, but that it is
conclusively presumed from something else, there is always ground
for suspicion that the essential clement is to be found in that
something else, and not in what is said to be presumed from it.

With regard to the intent necessary to deceit, we need not stop
with the single instance which has been given. The law goes no
farther than to require proof either of the intent, or that the
other party was justified in inferring such intention. So that
the whole meaning of the requirement is, that the natural and
manifest tendency of the representation, under the known
circumstances, must have been to induce the opinion that it was
made with a view to action, and so to induce action on the faith
of it. The standard of what is called intent is thus really an
external standard of conduct under the known circumstances, and
the analysis of the criminal law holds good here.

Nor is this all. The law pursuing its course of specification, as
explained in the last Lecture, decides what is the tendency of
representations in certain cases,--as, for instance, that a horse
is sound at the time of making a [135] sale; or, in general, of
any statement of fact which it is known the other party intends
to rely on. Beyond these scientific rules lies the vague realm of
the jury.

The other moral element in deceit is knowledge that the statement
was false. With this I am not strictly concerned, because all
that is necessary is accomplished when the elements of risk are
reduced to action and knowledge. But it will aid in the general
object of showing that the tendency of the law everywhere is to
transcend moral and reach external standards, if this knowledge
of falsehood can be transmuted into a formula not necessarily
importing guilt, although, of course, generally accompanied by it
in fact. The moment we look critically at it, we find the moral
side shade away.

The question is, what known circumstances are enough throw the
risk of a statement upon him who makes it, if it induces another
man to act, and it turns out untrue. Now, it is evident that a
man may take the risk of his statement by express agreement, or
by an implied one which the law reads into his bargain. He may in
legal language warrant the truth of it, and if it is not true,
the law treats it as a fraud, just as much when he makes it fully
believing it, as when he knows that it is untrue, and means to
deceive. If, in selling a horse, the seller warranted him to be
only five years old, and in fact he was thirteen, the seller
could be sued for a deceit at common law, although he thought the
horse was only five. /1/ The common-law liability for the truth
of statements is, therefore, more extensive than the sphere of
actual moral fraud. But, again, it is enough in general if a
representation [136] is made recklessly, without knowing whether
it is true or false. Now what does "recklessly" mean. It does not
mean actual personal indifference to the truth of the statement.
It means only that the data for the statement were so far
insufficient that a prudent man could not have made it without
leading to the inference that he was indifferent. That is to say,
repeating an analysis which has been gone through with before, it
means that the law, applying a general objective standard,
determines that, if a man makes his statement on those data, he
is liable, whatever was the state of his mind, and although he
individually may have been perfectly free from wickedness in
making it.

Hence similar reasoning to that which has been applied already to
intent may be applied to knowledge of falsity. Actual knowledge
may often be easier to prove than that the evidence was
insufficient to warrant the statement, and when proved it
contains the lesser element. But as soon as the lesser element is
shown to be enough, it is shown that the law is ready to apply an
external or objective standard here also.

Courts of equity have laid down the doctrine in terms which are
so wholly irrespective of the actual moral condition of the
defendant as to go to an opposite extreme. It is said that "when
a representation in a matter of business is made by one man to
another calculated to induce him to adapt his conduct to it, it
is perfectly immaterial whether the representation is made
knowing it to be untrue, or whether it is made believing it to be
true, if, in fact, it was untrue." /1/

Perhaps the actual decisions could be reconciled on a [137]
narrower principle, but the rule just stated goes the length of
saying that in business matters a man makes every statement (of a
kind likely to be acted on) at his peril. This seems hardly
justifiable in policy. The moral starting point of liability in
general should never be forgotten, and the law cannot without
disregarding it hold a man answerable for statements based on
facts which would have convinced a wise and prudent man of their
truth. The public advantage and necessity of freedom in imparting
information, which privileges even the slander of a third person,
ought a fortiori, it seems to me, to privilege statements made at
the request of the party who complains of them.

The common law, at any rate, preserves the reference to morality
by making fraud the ground on which it goes. It does not hold
that a man always speaks at his peril. But starting from the
moral ground, it works out an external standard of what would be
fraudulent in the average prudent member of the community, and
requires every member at his peril to avoid that. As in other
cases, it is gradually accumulating precedents which decide that
certain statements under certain circumstances are at the peril
of the party who makes them.

The elements of deceit which throw the risk of his conduct upon a
party are these. First, making a statement of facts purporting to
be serious. Second, the known presence of another within hearing.
Third, known facts sufficient to warrant the expectation or
suggest the probability that the other party will act on the
statement. (What facts are sufficient has been specifically
determined by the courts in some instances; in others, no doubt,
the question would go to the jury on the principles heretofore
explained.) Fourth, the [138] falsehood of the statement. This
must be known, or else the known evidence concerning the matter
of the statement must be such as would not warrant belief
according to the ordinary course of human experience. (On this
point also the court may be found to lay down specific rules in
some cases. /1/)

I next take up the law of slander. It has often been said that
malice is one of the elements of liability, and the doctrine is
commonly stated in this way: that malice must exist, but that it
is presumed by law from the mere speaking of the words; that
again you may rebut this presumption of malice by showing that
the words were spoken under circumstances which made the
communication privileged,--as, for instance, by a lawyer in the
necessary course of his argument, or by a person answering in
good faith to inquiries as to the character of a former servant,--
and then, it is said, the plaintiff may meet this defence in some
cases by showing that the words were spoken with actual malice.

All this sounds as if at least actual intent to cause the damage
complained of, if not malevolence, were at the bottom of this
class of wrongs. Yet it is not so. For although the use of the
phrase "malice" points as usual to an original moral standard,
the rule that it is presumed upon proof of speaking certain words
is equivalent to saying that the overt conduct of speaking those
words may be actionable whether the consequence of damage to the
plaintiff was intended or not. And this fails in with the general
theory, because the manifest tendency of slanderous words is to
harm the person of whom they are spoken. Again, the real
substance of the defence is not that the damage [139] was not
intended,--that would be no defence at all; but that, whether
it was intended or not,--that is, even if the defendant foresaw
it and foresaw it with pleasure,--the manifest facts and
circumstances under which he said it were such that the law
considered the damage to the plaintiff of less importance than
the benefit of free speaking.

It is more difficult to apply the same analysis to the last stage
of the process, but perhaps it is not impossible. It is said that
the plaintiff may meet a case of privilege thus made out on the
part of the defendant, by proving actual malice, that is, actual
intent to cause the damage complained of. But how is this actual
malice made out? It is by showing that the defendant knew the
statement which he made was false, or that his untrue statements
were grossly in excess of what the occasion required. Now is it
not very evident that the law is looking to a wholly different
matter from the defendant's intent? The fact that the defendant
foresaw and foresaw with pleasure the damage to the plaintiff, is
of no more importance in this case than it would be where the
communication was privileged. The question again is wholly a
question of knowledge, or other external standard. And what makes
even knowledge important? It is that the reason for which a man
is allowed in the other instances to make false charges against
his neighbors is wanting. It is for the public interest that
people should be free to give the best information they can under
certain circumstances without fear, but there is no public
benefit in having lies told at any time; and when a charge is
known to be false, or is in excess of what is required by the
occasion, it is not necessary to make that charge in order to
speak freely, and [140] therefore it falls under the ordinary
rule, that certain charges are made at the party's peril in case
they turn out to be false, whether evil consequences were
intended or not. The defendant is liable, not because his intent
was evil, but because he made false charges without excuse.

It will be seen that the peril of conduct here begins farther
back than with deceit, as the tendency of slander is more
universally harmful. There must be some concomitant
circumstances. There must at least be a human being in existence
whom the statement designates. There must be another human being
within hearing who understands the statement, and the statement
must be false. But it is arguable that the latter of these facts
need not be known, as certainly the falsity of the charge need
not be, and that a man must take the risk of even an idle
statement being heard, unless he made it under known
circumstances of privilege. It would be no great curtailment of
freedom to deny a man immunity in attaching a charge of crime to
the name of his neighbor, even when he supposes himself alone.
But it does not seem clear that the law would go quite so far as
that.

The next form of liability is comparatively insignificant. I mean
the action for malicious prosecution. A man may recover damages
against another for maliciously and without probable cause
instituting a criminal, or, in some cases, a civil prosecution
against him upon a false charge. The want of probable cause
refers, of course, only to the state of the defendant's
knowledge, not to his intent. It means the absence of probable
cause in the facts known to the defendant when he instituted the
suit. But the standard applied to the defendant's consciousness
is external to it. The question is not whether he thought the
[141] facts to constitute probable cause, but whether the court
thinks they did.

Then as to malice. The conduct of the defendant consists in
instituting proceedings on a charge which is in fact false, and
which has not prevailed. That is the root of the whole matter. If
the charge was true, or if the plaintiff has been convicted, even
though he may be able now to prove that he was wrongly convicted,
the defendant is safe, however great his malice, and however
little ground he had for his charge.

Suppose, however, that the charge is false, and does not prevail.
It may readily be admitted that malice did originally mean a
malevolent motive, an actual intent to harm the plaintiff by
making a false charge. The legal remedy here, again, started from
the moral basis, the occasion for it, no doubt, being similar to
that which gave rise to the old law of conspiracy, that a man's
enemies would sometimes seek his destruction by setting the
criminal law in motion against him. As it was punishable to
combine for such a purpose, it was concluded, with some
hesitation, that, when a single individual wickedly attempted the
same thing, he should be liable on similar grounds. /1/ I must
fully admit that there is weighty authority to the effect that
malice in its ordinary sense is to this day a distinct fact to be
proved and to be found by the jury.

But this view cannot be accepted without hesitation. It is
admitted that, on the one side, the existence of probable cause,
believed in, is a justification notwithstanding malice; /2/ that,
on the other, "it is not enough to show [142] that the case
appeared sufficient to this particular party, but it must be
sufficient to induce a sober, sensible and discreet person to act
upon it, or it must fail as a justification for the proceeding
upon general grounds." /1/ On the one side, malice alone will not
make a man liable for instituting a groundless prosecution; on
the other, his justification will depend, not on his opinion of
the facts, but on that of the court. When his actual moral
condition is disregarded to this extent, it is a little hard to
believe that the existence of an improper motive should be
material. Yet that is what malice must mean in this case, if it
means anything. /2/ For the evil effects of a successful
indictment are of course intended by one who procures all other
to be indicted. I cannot but think that a jury would be told that
knowledge or belief that the charge was false at the time of
making it was conclusive evidence of malice. And if so, on
grounds which need not be repeated, malice is not the important
thing, but the facts known to the defendant.

Nevertheless, as it is obviously treading on delicate ground to
make it actionable to set the regular processes of the law in
motion, it is, of course, entirely possible to say that the
action shall be limited to those cases where the charge was
preferred from improper motives, at least if the defendant
thought that there was probable cause. Such a limitation would
stand almost alone in the law of civil liability. But the nature
of the wrong is peculiar, and, moreover, it is quite consistent
with the theory of liability here advanced that it should be
confined in any given instance to actual wrong-doing in a moral
sense.

The only other cause of action in which the moral condition [143]
of the defendant's consciousness might seem to be important is
conspiracy. The old action going by that name was much like
malicious prosecution, and no doubt was originally confined to
cases where several persons had conspired to indict another from
malevolent motives. But in the modern action on the case, where
conspiracy is charged, the allegation as a rule only means that
two or more persons were so far co-operating in their acts that
the act of any one was the act of all. Generally speaking, the
liability depends not on the co-operation or conspiring, but on
the character of the acts done, supposing them all to be done by
one man, or irrespective of the question whether they were done
by one or several. There may be cases, to be sure, in which the
result could not be accomplished, or the offence could not
ordinarily be proved, without a combination of several; as, for
instance, the removal of a teacher by a school board. The
conspiracy would not affect the case except in a practical way,
but the question would be raised whether, notwithstanding the
right of the board to remove, proof that they were actuated by
malevolence would not make a removal actionable. Policy, it might
be said, forbids going behind their judgment, but actual evil
motives coupled with the absence of grounds withdraw this
protection, because policy, although it does not require them to
take the risk of being right, does require that they should judge
honestly on the merits. /1/

Other isolated instances like the last might, perhaps, be found
in different parts of the law, in which actual malevolence would
affect a man's liability for his conduct. Again, in trover for
the conversion of another's chattel, where the dominion exercised
over it was of a slight and ambiguous [144] nature, it has been
said that the taking must be "with the intent of exercising an
ownership over the chattel inconsistent with the real owner's
right of possession." /1/ But this seems to be no more than a
faint shadow of the doctrine explained with regard to larceny,
and does not require any further or special discussion. Trover is
commonly understood to go, like larceny, on the plaintiff's being
deprived of his property, although in practice every possessor
has the action, and, generally speaking, the shortest wrongful
withholding of possession is a conversion.

Be the exceptions more or less numerous, the general purpose of
the law of torts is to secure a man indemnity against certain
forms of harm to person, reputation, or estate, at the hands of
his neighbors, not because they are wrong, but because they are
harms. The true explanation of the reference of liability to a
moral standard, in the sense which has been explained, is not
that it is for the purpose of improving men's hearts, but that it
is to give a man a fair chance to avoid doing the harm before he
is held responsible for it. It is intended to reconcile the
policy of letting accidents lie where they fall, and the
reasonable freedom of others with the protection of the
individual from injury.

But the law does not even seek to indemnify a man from all harms.
An unrestricted enjoyment of all his possibilities would
interfere with other equally important enjoyments on the part of
his neighbors. There are certain things which the law allows a
man to do, notwithstanding the fact that he foresees that harm to
another will follow from them. He may charge a man with crime if
the charge is true. He may establish himself in business where he
foresees that [145] of his competition will be to diminish the
custom of another shopkeeper, perhaps to ruin him. He may a
building which cuts another off from a beautiful prospect, or he
may drain subterranean waters and thereby drain another's well;
and many other cases might be put.

As any of these things may be done with foresight of their evil
consequences, it would seem that they might be done with intent,
and even with malevolent intent, to produce them. The whole
argument of this Lecture and the preceding tends to this
conclusion. If the aim of liability is simply to prevent or
indemnify from harm so far as is consistent with avoiding the
extreme of making a man answer for accident, when the law permits
the harm to be knowingly inflicted it would be a strong thing if
the presence of malice made any difference in its decisions. That
might happen, to be sure, without affecting the general views
maintained here, but it is not to be expected, and the weight of
authority is against it.

As the law, on the one hand, allows certain harms to be inflicted
irrespective of the moral condition of him who inflicts them, so,
at the other extreme, it may on grounds of policy throw the
absolute risk of certain transactions on the person engaging in
them, irrespective of blameworthiness in any sense. Instances of
this sort have been mentioned in the last Lecture, /1/ and will
be referred to again.

Most liabilities in tort lie between these two extremes, and are
founded on the infliction of harm which the defendant had a
reasonable opportunity to avoid at the time of the acts or
omissions which were its proximate cause. Rut as fast as specific
rules are worked out in place of the [146] vague reference to the
conduct of the average man, they range themselves alongside of
other specific rules based on public policy, and the grounds from
which they spring cease to be manifest. So that, as will be seen
directly, rules which seem to lie outside of culpability in any
sense have sometimes been referred to remote fault, while others
which started from the general notion of negligence may with
equal ease be referred to some extrinsic ground of policy.

Apart from the extremes just mentioned, it is now easy to see how
the point at which a man's conduct begins to be at his own peril
is generally fixed. When the principle is understood on which
that point is determined by the law of torts, we possess a common
ground of classification, and a key to the whole subject, so far
as tradition has not swerved the law from a consistent theory. It
has been made pretty clear from what precedes, that I find that
ground in knowledge of circumstances accompanying an act or
conduct indifferent but for those circumstances.

But it is worth remarking, before that criterion is discussed,
that a possible common ground is reached at the preceding step in
the descent from malice through intent and foresight. Foresight
is a possible common denominator of wrongs at the two extremes of
malice and negligence. The purpose of the law is to prevent or
secure a man indemnity from harm at the hands of his neighbors,
so far as consistent with other considerations which have been
mentioned, and excepting, of course, such harm as it permits to
be intentionally inflicted. When a man foresees that harm will
result from his conduct, the principle which exonerates him from
accident no longer applies, and he is liable. But, as has been
shown, he is bound to foresee [147] whatever a prudent and
intelligent man would have foreseen, and therefore he is liable
for conduct from which such a man would have foreseen that harm
was liable to follow.

Accordingly, it would be possible to state all cases of
negligence in terms of imputed or presumed foresight. It would be
possible even to press the presumption further, applying the very
inaccurate maxim, that every man is presumed to intend the
natural consequences of his own acts; and this mode of expression
will, in fact, be found to have been occasionally used, /1/ more
especially in the criminal law, where the notion of intent has a
stronger foothold. /2/ The latter fiction is more remote and less
philosophical than the former; but, after all, both are equally
fictions. Negligence is not foresight, but precisely the want of
it; and if foresight were presumed, the ground of the
presumption, and therefore the essential element, would be the
knowledge of facts which made foresight possible.

Taking knowledge, then, as the true starting-point, the next
question is how to determine the circumstances necessary to be
known in any given case in order to make a man liable for the
consequences of his act. They must be such as would have led a
prudent man to perceive danger, although not necessarily to
foresee the specific harm. But this is a vague test. How is it
decided what those circumstances are? The answer must be, by
experience.

But there is one point which has been left ambiguous in the
preceding Lecture and here, and which must be touched upon. It
has been assumed that conduct which [148] the man of ordinary
intelligence would perceive to be dangerous under the
circumstances, would be blameworthy if pursued by him. It might
not be so, however. Suppose that, acting under the threats of
twelve armed men, which put him in fear of his life, a man enters
another's close and takes a horse. In such a case, he actually
contemplates and chooses harm to another as the consequence of
his act. Yet the act is neither blameworthy nor punishable. But
it might be actionable, and Rolle, C. J. ruled that it was so in
Gilbert v. Stone. /1/ If this be law, it goes the full length of
deciding that it is enough if the defendant has had a chance to
avoid inflicting the harm complained of. And it may well be
argued that, although he does wisely to ransom his life as he
best may, there is no reason why he should be allowed to
intentionally and permanently transfer his misfortunes to the
shoulders of his neighbors.

It cannot be inferred, from the mere circumstance that certain
conduct is made actionable, that therefore the law regards it as
wrong, or seeks to prevent it. Under our mill acts a man has to
pay for flowing his neighbor's lands, in the same way that he has
to pay in trover for converting his neighbor's goods. Yet the law
approves and encourages the flowing of lands for the erection of
mills.

Moral predilections must not be allowed to influence our minds in
settling legal distinctions. If we accept the test of the
liability alone, how do we distinguish between trover and the
mill acts? Or between conduct which is prohibited, and that which
is merely taxed? The only distinction which I can see is in the
difference of the collateral consequences attached to the two
classes of conduct. In the one, the maxim in pari delicto potior
est [149] conditio defendentis, and the invalidity of contracts
contemplating it, show that the conduct is outside the protection
of the law. In the other, it is otherwise. /1/ This opinion is
confirmed by the fact, that almost the only cases in which the
distinction between prohibition and taxation comes up concern the
application of these maxims.

But if this be true, liability to an action does not necessarily
import wrong-doing. And this may be admitted without at all
impairing the force of the argument in the foregoing Lecture,
which only requires that people should not be made to pay for
accidents which they could not have avoided.

It is doubtful, however, whether the ruling of Chief Justice
Rolle would now be followed. The squib case, Scott v. Shepherd,
and the language of some text-books, are more or less opposed to
it. /2/ If the latter view is law, then an act must in general
not only be dangerous, but one which would be blameworthy on the
part of the average man, in order to make the actor liable. But,
aside from such exceptional cases as Gilbert v. Stone, the two
tests agree, and the difference need not be considered in what
follows.

I therefore repeat, that experience is the test by which it is
decided whether the degree of danger attending given conduct
under certain known circumstances is sufficient to throw the risk
upon the party pursuing it.

For instance, experience shows that a good many guns supposed to
be unloaded go off and hurt people. The ordinarily intelligent
and prudent member of the community [150] would foresee the
possibility of danger from pointing a gun which he had not
inspected into a crowd, and pulling the trigger, although it was
said to be unloaded. Hence, it may very properly be held that a
man who does such a thing does it at his peril, and that, if
damage ensues, he is answerable for it. The co-ordinated acts
necessary to point a gun and pull a trigger, and the intent and
knowledge shown by the co-ordination of those acts, are all
consistent with entire blamelessness. They threaten harm to no
one without further facts. But the one additional circumstance of
a man in the line and within range of the piece makes the conduct
manifestly dangerous to any one who knows the fact. There is no
longer any need to refer to the prudent man, or general
experience. The facts have taught their lesson, and have
generated a concrete and external rule of liability. He who snaps
a cap upon a gun pointed in the direction of another person,
known by him to be present, is answerable for the consequences.

The question what a prudent man would do under given
circumstances is then equivalent to the question what are the
teachings of experience as to the dangerous character of this or
that conduct under these or those circumstances; and as the
teachings of experience are matters of fact, it is easy to see
why the jury should be consulted with regard to them. They are,
however, facts of a special and peculiar function. Their only
bearing is on the question, what ought to have been done or
omitted under the circumstances of the case, not on what was
done. Their function is to suggest a rule of conduct.

Sometimes courts are induced to lay down rules by facts of a more
specific nature; as that the legislature passed a certain
statute, and that the case at bar is within [151] the fair
meaning of its words; or that the practice of a specially
interested class, or of the public at large, has generated a rule
of conduct outside the law which it is desirable that the courts
should recognize and enforce. These are matters of fact, and have
sometimes been pleaded as such. But as their only importance is,
that, if believed, they will induce the judges to lay down a rule
of conduct, or in other words a rule of law, suggested by them,
their tendency in most instances is to disappear as fast as the
rules suggested by them become settled. /1/ While the facts are
uncertain, as they are still only motives for decision upon the
law,--grounds for legislation, so to speak,--the judges may
ascertain them in any way which satisfies their conscience. Thus,
courts recognize the statutes of the jurisdiction judicially,
although the laws of other jurisdictions, with doubtful wisdom,
are left to the jury. /2/ They may take judicial cognizance of a
custom of merchants. /3/ In former days, at least, they might
inquire about it in pais after a demurrer. /4/ They may act on
the statement of a special jury, as in the time of Lord Mansfield
and his successors, or upon the finding of a common jury based on
the testimony of witnesses, as is the practice to-day in this
country. But many instances will be found the text-books which
show that, when the facts are ascertained, they soon cease to be
referred to, and give place to a rule of law.

[152] The same transition is noticeable with regard to the
teachings of experience. There are many cases, no doubt, in which
the court would lean for aid upon a jury; but there are also many
in which the teaching has been formulated in specific rules.
These rules will be found to vary considerably with regard to the
number of concomitant circumstances necessary to throw the peril
of conduct otherwise indifferent on the actor. As the
circumstances become more numerous and complex, the tendency to
cut the knot with the jury becomes greater. It will be useful to
follow a line of cases up from the simple to the more
complicated, by way of illustration. The difficulty of
distinguishing rules based on other grounds of policy from those
which have been worked out in the field of negligence, will be
particularly noticed.

In all these cases it will be found that there has been a
voluntary act on the part of the person to be charged. The reason
for this requirement was shown in the foregoing Lecture.
Unnecessary though it is for the defendant to have intended or
foreseen the evil which he has caused, it is necessary that he
should have chosen the conduct which led to it. But it has also
been shown that a voluntary act is not enough, and that even a
co-ordinated series of acts or conduct is often not enough by
itself. But the co-ordination of a series of acts shows a further
intent than is necessarily manifested by any single act, and
sometimes proves with almost equal certainty the knowledge of one
or more concomitant circumstances. And there are cases where
conduct with only the intent and knowledge thus necessarily
implied is sufficient to throw the risk of it on the actor.

For instance, when a man does the series of acts called [153]
walking, it is assumed for all purposes of responsibility that he
knows the earth is under his feet. The conduct per se is
indifferent, to be sure. A man may go through the motions of
walking without legal peril, if he chooses to practise on a
private treadmill; but if he goes through the same motions on the
surface of the earth, it cannot be doubted that he knows that the
earth is there. With that knowledge, he acts at his peril in
certain respects. If he crosses his neighbor's boundary, he is a
trespasser. The reasons for this strict rule have been partially
discussed in the last Lecture. Possibly there is more of history
or of past or present notions of policy its explanation than is
there suggested, and at any rate I do not care to justify the
rule. But it is intelligible. A man who walks knows that he is
moving over the surface of the earth, he knows that he is
surrounded by private estates which he has no right to enter, and
he knows that his motion, unless properly guided, will carry him
into those estates. He is thus warned, and the burden of his
conduct is thrown upon himself.

But the act of walking does not throw the peril of all possible
consequences upon him. He may run a man down in the street, but
he is not liable for that unless he does it negligently. Confused
as the law is with cross-lights of tradition, and hard as we may
find it to arrive at perfectly satisfactory general theory, it
does distinguish in a pretty sensible way, according to the
nature and degree of the different perils incident to a given
situation.

From the simple case of walking we may proceed to the more
complex cases of dealings with tangible objects of property. It
may be said that, generally speaking, a man meddles with such
things at his own risk. It does not [154] matter how honestly he
may believe that they belong to himself, or are free to the
public, or that he has a license from the owner, or that the case
is one in which the law has limited the rights of ownership; he
takes the chance of how the fact may turn out, and if the fact is
otherwise than as he supposes, he must answer for his conduct. As
has been already suggested, he knows that he is exercising more
or less dominion over property, or that he is injuring it; he
must make good his right if it is challenged.

Whether this strict rule is based on the common grounds of
liability, or upon some special consideration of past or present
policy, policy has set some limits to it, as was mentioned in the
foregoing Lecture.

Another case of conduct which is at the risk of the party without
further knowledge than it necessarily imports, is the keeping of
a tiger or bear, or other animal of a species commonly known to
be ferocious. If such an animal escapes and does damage, the
owner is liable simply on proof that he kept it. In this instance
the comparative remoteness of the moment of choice in the line of
causation from the effect complained of, will be particularly
noticed. Ordinary cases of liability arise out of a choice which
was the proximate cause of the harm upon which the action is
founded. But here there is usually no question of negligence in
guarding the beast. It is enough in most, if not in all cases,
that the owner has chosen to keep it. Experience has shown that
tigers and bears are alert to find means of escape, and that, if
they escape, they are very certain to do harm of a serious
nature. The possibility of a great danger has the same effect as
the probability of a less one, and the law throws the risk of
[155] the venture on the person who introduces the peril into the
community.

This remoteness of the opportunity of choice goes far to show
that this risk is thrown upon the owner for other reasons than
the ordinary one of imprudent conduct. It has been suggested that
the liability stood upon remote inadvertence. /1/ But the law
does not forbid a man to keep a menagerie, or deem it in any way
blameworthy. It has applied nearly as strict a rule to dealings
which are even more clearly beneficial to the community than a
show of wild beasts.

This seems to be one of those cases where the ground of liability
is to be sought in policy coupled with tradition, rather than in
any form of blameworthiness, or the existence of such a chance to
avoid doing the harm as a man is usually allowed. But the fact
that remote inadvertence has been suggested for an explanation
illustrates what has been said about the difficulty of deciding
whether a given rule is founded on special grounds, or has been
worked out within the sphere of negligence, when once a special
rule has been laid down.

It is further to be noticed that there is no question of the
defendant's knowledge of the nature of tigers, although without
that knowledge he cannot be said to have intelligently chosen to
subject the community to danger. Here again even in the domain of
knowledge the law applies its principle of averages. The fact
that tigers and bears are dangerous is so generally known, that
a man who keeps them is presumed to know their peculiarities. In
other words, he does actually know that he has an animal with
certain teeth, claws, and so forth, and he must find out the
[156] rest of what an average member of the community would know,
at his peril.

What is true as to damages in general done by ferocious wild
beasts is true as to a particular class of damages done by
domestic cattle, namely, trespasses upon another's land. This has
been dealt with in former Lectures, and it is therefore needless
to do more than to recall it here, and to call attention to the
distinction based on experience and policy between damage which
is and that which is not of a kind to be expected. Cattle
generally stray and damage cultivated land when they get upon it.
They only exceptionally hurt human beings.

I need not recur to the possible historical connection of either
of these last forms of liability with the noxoe deditio, because,
whether that origin is made out or not, the policy of the rule
has been accepted as sound, and carried further in England within
the last few years by the doctrine that a man who brings upon his
land and keeps there anything likely to do mischief if it escape,
must keep it in at his peril. /1/ The strictness of this
principle will vary in different jurisdictions, as the balance
varies between the advantages to the public and the dangers to
individuals from the conduct in question. Danger of harm to
others is not the only thing to be considered, as has been said
already. The law allows some harms to be intentionally inflicted,
and a fortiori some risks to be intentionally run. In some
Western States a man is not required to keep his cattle fenced
in. Some courts have refused to follow Rylands v. Fletcher. /2/
On the other hand, the principle has been applied to artificial
[157] reservoirs of water, to cesspools, to accumulations of snow
and ice upon a building by reason of the form of its roof, and to
party walls. /1/

In these cases, as in that of ferocious animals, it is no excuse
that the defendant did not know, and could not have found out,
the weak point from which the dangerous object escaped. The
period of choice was further back, and, although he was not to
blame, he was bound at his peril to know that the object was a
continual threat to his neighbors, and that is enough to throw
the risk of the business on him.

I now pass to cases one degree more complex than those so far
considered. In these there must be another concomitant
circumstance known to the party in addition to those of which the
knowledge is necessarily or practically proved by his conduct.
The cases which naturally suggest themselves again concern
animals. Experience as interpreted by the English law has shown
that dogs, rams, and bulls are in general of a tame and mild
nature, and that, if any one of them does by chance exhibit a
tendency to bite, butt, or gore, it is an exceptional phenomenon.
Hence it is not the law that a man keeps dogs, rams, bulls, and
other like tame animals at his peril as to the personal damages
which they may inflict, unless he knows or has notice that the
particular animal kept by him has the abnormal tendency which
they do sometimes show. The law has, however, been brought a
little nearer to actual experience by statute in many
jurisdictions.

Now let us go one step farther still. A man keeps an unbroken and
unruly horse, knowing it to be so. That is not enough to throw
the risk of its behavior on him. The [158] tendency of the known
wildness is not dangerous generally, but only under particular
circumstances. Add to keeping, the attempt to break the horse;
still no danger to the public is disclosed. But if the place
where the owner tries to break it is a crowded thoroughfare, the
owner knows an additional circumstance which, according to common
experience, makes this conduct dangerous, and therefore must take
the risk of what harm may be done. /1/ On the other hand, if a
man who was a good rider bought a horse with no appearance of
vice and mounted it to ride home, there would be no such apparent
danger as to make him answerable if the horse became unruly and
did damage. /2/ Experience has measured the probabilities and
draws the line between the two cases.

Whatever may be the true explanation of the rule applied to
keeping tigers, or the principle of Rylands v. Fletcher, in the
last cases we have entered the sphere of negligence, and, if we
take a case lying somewhere between the two just stated, and add
somewhat to the complexity of the circumstances, we shall find
that both conduct and standard would probably be left without
much discrimination to the jury, on the broad issue whether the
defendant had acted as a prudent man would have done under the
circumstances.

As to wrongs called malicious or intentional it is not necessary
to mention the different classes a second time, and to find them
a place in this series. As has been seen, they vary in the number
of circumstances which must be known. Slander is conduct which is
very generally at the risk of [159] the speaker, because, as
charges of the kind with which it deals are manifestly
detrimental, the questions which practically arise for the most
part concern the defence of truth or privilege. Deceit requires
more, but still simple facts. Statements do not threaten the harm
in question unless they are made under such circumstances as to
naturally lead to action, and are made on insufficient grounds.

It is not, however, without significance, that certain wrongs are
described in language importing intent. The harm in such cases is
most frequently done intentionally, if intent to cause a certain
harm is shown, there need to prove knowledge of facts which made
it that harm would follow. Moreover, it is often much easier to
prove intent directly, than to prove the knowledge which would
make it unnecessary.

The cases in which a man is treated as the responsible cause of a
given harm, on the one hand, extend beyond those in which his
conduct was chosen in actual contemplation of that result, and in
which, therefore, he may be to have chosen to cause that harm;
and, on the other hand, they do not extend to all instances where
the damages would not have happened but for some remote election
his part. Generally speaking, the choice will be found to have
extended further than a simple act, and to co-ordinated acts into
conduct. Very commonly it will have extended further still, to
some external consequence. But generally, also, it will be found
to have stopped short of the consequence complained of.

The question in each case is whether the actual choice, or, in
other words, the actually contemplated result, was near enough to
the remoter result complained of to throw the peril of it upon
the actor.

[160] Many of the cases which have been put thus far are cases
where the proximate cause of the loss was intended to be produced
by the defendant. But it will be seen that the same result may be
caused by a choice at different points. For instance, a man is
sued for having caused his neighbor's house to burn down. The
simplest case is, that he actually intended to burn it down. If
so, the length of the chain of physical causes intervening is of
no importance, and has no bearing on the case.

But the choice may have stopped one step farther back. The
defendant may have intended to light a fire on his own land, and
may not have intended to burn the house. Then the nature of the
intervening and concomitant physical causes becomes of the
highest importance. The question will be the degree of danger
attending the contemplated (and therefore chosen) effect of the
defendant's conduct under the circumstances known to him. If this
was very plain and very great, as, for instance, if his conduct
consisted in lighting stubble near a haystack close to the house,
and if the manifest circumstances were that the house was of
wood, the stubble very dry, and the wind in a dangerous quarter,
the court would probably rule that he was liable. If the
defendant lighted an ordinary fire in a fireplace in an adjoining
house, having no knowledge that the fireplace was unsafely
constructed, the court would probably rule that he was not
liable. Midway, complicated and doubtful cases would go to the
jury.

But the defendant may not even have intended to set the fire, and
his conduct and intent may have been simply to fire a gun, or,
remoter still, to walk across a room, in doing which he
involuntarily upset a bottle of acid. So that cases may go to the
jury by reason of the remoteness [161] of the choice in the
series of events, as well as because of the complexity of the
circumstances attending the act or conduct. The difference is,
perhaps, rather dramatic than substantial.

But the philosophical analysis of every wrong begins by
determining what the defendant has actually chosen, that is to
say, what his voluntary act or conduct has been, and what
consequences he has actually contemplated as flowing from them,
and then goes on to determine what dangers attended either the
conduct under the known circumstances, or its contemplated
consequence under the contemplated circumstances.

Take a case like the glancing of Sir Walter Tyrrel's arrow. If an
expert marksman contemplated that the arrow would hit a certain
person, cadit qucoestio. If he contemplated that it would glance
in the direction of another person, but contemplated no more than
that, in order to judge of his liability we must go to the end of
his fore-sight, and, assuming the foreseen event to happen,
consider what the manifest danger was then. But if no such event
was foreseen, the marksman must be judged by the circumstances
known to him at the time of shooting.

The theory of torts may be summed up very simply. At the two
extremes of the law are rules determined by policy without
reference of any kind to morality. Certain harms a man may
inflict even wickedly; for certain others he must answer,
although his conduct has been prudent and beneficial to the
community.

But in the main the law started from those intentional wrongs
which are the simplest and most pronounced cases, as well as the
nearest to the feeling of revenge which leads to self-redress. It
thus naturally adopted the vocabulary, [162] and in some degree
the tests, of morals. But as the law has grown, even when its
standards have continued to model themselves upon those of
morality, they have necessarily become external, because they
have considered, not the actual condition of the particular
defendant, but whether his conduct would have been wrong in the
fair average member of the community, whom he is expected to
equal at his peril.

In general, this question will be determined by considering the
degree of danger attending the act or conduct under the known
circumstances. If there is danger that harm to another will
follow, the act is generally wrong in the sense of the law.

But in some cases the defendant's conduct may not have been
morally wrong, and yet he may have chosen to inflict the harm, as
where he has acted in fear of his life. In such cases he will be
liable, or not, according as the law makes moral blameworthiness,
within the limits explained above, the ground of liability, or
deems it sufficient if the defendant has had reasonable warning
of danger before acting. This distinction, however, is generally
unimportant, and the known tendency of the act under the known
circumstances to do harm may be accepted as the general test of
conduct.

The tendency of a given act to cause harm under given
circumstances must be determined by experience. And experience
either at first hand or through the voice of the jury is
continually working out concrete rules, which in form are still
more external and still more remote from a reference to the moral
condition of the defendant, than even the test of the prudent man
which makes the first stage of the division between law and
morals. It does this in the domain [163] of wrongs described as
intentional, as systematically as in those styled unintentional
or negligent.

But while the law is thus continually adding to its specific
rules, it does not adopt the coarse and impolitic principle that
a man acts always at his peril. On the contrary, its concrete
rules, as well as the general questions addressed to the jury,
show that the defendant must have had at least a fair chance of
avoiding the infliction of harm before he becomes answerable for
such a consequence of his conduct. And it is certainly arguable
that even a fair chance to avoid bringing harm to pass is not
sufficient to throw upon a person the peril of his conduct,
unless, judged by average standards, he is also to blame for what
he does.

[164]




LECTURE V. -- THE BAILEE AT COMMON LAW.

So far the discussion has been confined to the general principles
of liability, and to the mode of ascertaining the point at which
a man begins to act at his own peril. But it does not matter to a
man whether he acts at his own peril or not, unless harm comes of
it, and there must always be some one within reach of the
consequences of the act before any harm can be done. Furthermore,
and more to the point, there are certain forms of harm which are
not likely to be suffered, and which can never be complained of
by any one except a person who stands in a particular relation to
the actor or to some other person or thing. Thus it is neither a
harm nor a wrong to take fish from a pond unless the pond is
possessed or owned by some one, and then only to the possessor or
owner. It is neither a harm nor a wrong to abstain from
delivering a bale of wool at a certain time and place, unless a
binding promise has been made so to deliver it, and then it is a
wrong only to the promisee.

The next thing to be done is to analyze those special relations
out of which special rights and duties arise. The chief of
them--and I mean by the word "relations" relations of fact
simply--are possession and contract, and I shall take up those
subjects successively.

The test of the theory of possession which prevails in any system
of law is to be found in its mode of dealing [165] who have a
thing within their power, but not own it, or assert the position
of an owner for with regard to it, bailees, in a word. It is
therefore, as a preliminary to understanding the common-law
theory of possession, to study the common law with regard to
bailees.

The state of things which prevailed on the border between England
and Scotland within recent times, and which is brought back in
the flesh by the ballad of the Fray O'Suport, is very like that
which in an earlier century left its skeleton in the folk-laws of
Germany and England. Cattle were the principal property known,
and cattle-stealing the principal form of wrongful taking of
property. Of law there was very little, and what there was
depended almost wholly upon the party himself to enforce. The
Salic Law of the fifth century and the Anglo-Saxon laws of Alfred
are very full in their directions about following the trail. If
the cattle were come up with before three days were gone, the
pursuer had the fight to take and keep them, subject only to
swearing that he lost them against his will. If more than three
days went by before the cattle were found, the defendant might
swear, if he could, to facts which would disprove the claimant's
loss.

This procedure was in truth a legal procedure; but it depended
for its beginning and for its execution on the party making the
claim. From its "executive" nature, it could hardly have been
started by any other than the person on the spot, in whose
keeping the cattle were. The oath was to the effect that the
party had lost possession against his will. But if all that a man
had to swear was that he had lost possession against his will, it
is a natural conclusion that the right to take the oath and make
use of [166] the procedure depended on possession, and not on
ownership. Possession was not merely sufficient, but it was
essential. Only he who was in possession could say that he had
lost the property against his will, just as only he who was on
the spot could follow the cattle. /1/

This, so far as known, was the one means afforded by the early
law of our race for the recovery of property lost against one's
will. So that, in a word, this procedure, modelled on the
self-redress natural to the case which gave rise to it, was the
only remedy, was confined to the man in possession, and was not
open to the owner unless he was that man.

To this primitive condition of society has been traced a rule
which maintained itself to later times and a more civilized
procedure, that, if chattels were intrusted by their owner to
another person, the bailee, and not the bailor, was the proper
party to sue for their wrongful appropriation by a third. It
followed that if the bailee, or person [167] so intrusted, sold
or gave the goods in his charge to another, the owner could only
look to the bailee, and could not sue the stranger; not from any
principle in favor of trade, intended to protect those who bought
in good faith from parties in possession, but because there was
no form of action known which was open to him. But as the
remedies were all in the bailee's hands, it also followed that he
was bound to hold his bailor harmless. If the goods were lost, it
was no excuse that they were stolen without his fault. He alone
could recover the lost property, and therefore he was bound to do
so.

In the course of time this reason ceased to exist. An owner out
of possession could sue the wrongful taker of his property, as
well as one who had possession. But the strict liability of the
bailee remained, as such rules do remain in the law, long after
the causes which gave rise to it had disappeared, and at length
we find cause and effect inverted. We read in Beaumanoir (A.D.
1283) that, if a hired thing is stolen, the suit belongs to the
bailee, because he is answerable to the person from whom he
hired. /1/ At first the bailee was answerable to the owner,
because he was the only person who could sue. Now it was said he
could sue because he was answerable to the owner.

All the above peculiarities reappear in the Anglo-Norman law, and
from that day to this all kinds of bailees have been treated as
having possession in a legal sense, as I shall presently show.

It is desirable to prove the native origin of our law of
bailment, in order that, when theory comes to be considered,
modern German opinion may not be valued at more than its true
worth. The only existing theories on [168] the subject come from
Germany. The German philosophers who have written upon law have
known no other system than the Roman, and the German lawyers who
have philosophized have been professors of Roman law. Some rules
which we think clear are against what the German civilians would
regard as first principles. To test the value of those
principles, or at least to prevent the hasty assumption that they
are universal, toward which there is a slight tendency among
English writers, it is well to realize that we are dealing with a
new system, of which philosophy has not yet taken account.

In the first place, we find an action to recover stolen property,
which, like the Salic procedure, was based on possession, not on
title. Bracton says that one may sue for his chattel as stolen,
by the testimony of good men, and that it does not matter whether
the thing thus taken was his own property or another's, provided
it was in his custody. /1/

The point of especial importance, it will be remembered, was the
oath. The oath of the probi homines would seem from the letter of
Bracton to have been that the thing was lost (adirata), and this
we are expressly told was the fact in a report of the year 1294.
"Note that where a man's chattel is lost (ou la chosse de un home
est endire), he may count that he [the finder] tortiously detains
it, &c., and tortiously for this that whereas he lost the said
thing on such a day, &c., he [the loser] came on such a day, &c.
[169] (la vynt yl e en jour), and found it in the house of such
an one, and told him, &c., and prayed him to restore the Sing,
but that he would not restore it, &c., to his damage, &c.; and if
he, &c. In this case, the demandant must prove (his own hand the
twelfth) that he lost the thing." /1/

Assuming that as the first step we find a procedure kindred to
that of the early German folk-laws, the more important question
is whether we find any principles similar to those which have
just been explained. One of these, it will be remembered,
concerned wrongful transfer by the bailee. We find it laid down
in the Year Books that, if I deliver goods to a bailee to keep
for me, and he sells or gives them to a stranger, the property is
vested in the stranger by the gift, and I cannot maintain
trespass against him; but that I have a good remedy against the
bailee by writ of detinue (for his failure to return the goods).
/2/ These cases have been understood, and it would seem on the
whole rightly, not merely to deny trespass to the bailor, but any
action whatever. Modern writers have added, however, the
characteristically modern qualification, that the purchase must
be bona fide, and without notice. /3/ It may be answered, that
the proposition extends to gifts as well as to sales by the
bailee, that there is no such condition in the old books, and
that it is contrary to the spirit of the strict doctrines of the
common law to read it in. No lawyer needs to be told that, even
so qualified, this is no [170] longer the law. /1/ The doctrine
of the Year Books must be regarded as a survival from the
primitive times when we have seen the same rule in force, unless
we are prepared to believe that in the fifteenth century they had
a nicer feeling for the rights of bona fide purchasers than at
present.

The next point in logical order would be the degree of
responsibility to which the bailee was held as towards his bailor
who intrusted him. But for convenience I will consider first the
explanation which was given of the bailee's right of action
against third persons wrongfully taking the goods from his
possession. The inverted explanation of Beaumanoir will be
remembered, that the bailee could sue because he was answerable
over, in place of the original rule, that he was answerable over
so strictly because only he could sue. We find the same reasoning
often repeated in the Year Books, and, indeed, from that day to
this it has always been one of the commonplaces of the law. Thus
Hankford, then a judge of the Common Bench, says (circa A.D.
1410), /2/ "If a stranger takes beasts in my custody, I shall
have a writ of trespass against him, and shall recover the value
of the beasts, because I am chargeable for the beasts to my
bailor, who has the property." There are cases in which this
reasoning was pushed to the conclusion, that if, by the terms of
the trust, the bailee was not answerable for the goods if stolen,
he would not have an action against the thief. /3/ The same
explanation is repeated to this day. Thus we read in a well-
known textbook, [171] "For the bailee being responsible to the
bailor, if the goods be lost or damaged by negligence, or if he
do not deliver them up on lawful demand, it is therefore
reasonable that he should have a right of action," &c. /1/ In
general, nowadays, a borrower or hirer of property is not
answerable if it is taken from him against his will, and if the
reason offered were a true one, it would follow that, as he was
not answerable over, he could not sue the wrong-doer. It would
only be necessary for the wrong-doer to commit a wrong so gross
as to free the bailee from responsibility, in order to deprive
him of his right of action. The truth is, that any person in
possession, whether intrusted and answerable over or not, a
finder of property as well as a bailee, can sue any one except
the true owner for interfering with his possession, as will be
shown more particularly at the end of the next Lecture.

The bailor also obtained a right of action against the wrong-doer
at a pretty early date. It is laid down by counsel in 48 Edward
III., /2/ in an action of trespass by an agister of cattle, that,
"in this case, he who has the property may have a writ of
trespass, and he who has the custody another writ of trespass.
Persay: Sir, it is true. But [172] he who recovers first shall
oust the other of the action, and so it shall be in many cases,
as if tenant by elegit is ousted, each shall have the assize,
and, if the one recover first, the writ of the other is abated,
and so here."

It would seem from other books that this was spoken of bailments
generally, and was not limited to those which are terminable at
the pleasure of the bailor. Thus in 22 Edward IV., counsel say,
"If I bail to you my goods, and another takes them out of your
possession, I shall have good action of trespass quare vi et
armis." /1/ And this seems to have been Rolle's understanding in
the passage usually relied on by modern courts. /2/

It was to be expected that some action should be given to the
bailor as soon as the law had got machinery which could be worked
without help from the fresh pursuit and armed hands of the
possessor and his friends. To allow the bailor to sue, and to
give him trespass, were pretty nearly the same thing before the
action on the case was heard of. Many early writs will be found
which show that trespass had not always the clear outline which
it developed later. The point which seems to be insisted on in
the Year Books is, as Brooke sums it up in the margin of his
Abridgment, that two shall have an action for a single act,--not
that both shall have trespass rather than case. /3/ It should be
added that the Year Books quoted do not go beyond the case of a
wrongful taking out of the custody of the bailee, the old case of
the folk-laws. /4/ Even thus [173] the right to maintain trespass
is now denied where bailee has the exclusive right to the goods
by lease or lien; /1/ although the doctrine has been repeated
with reference to bailments terminable at the pleasure of the
bailor. /2/ But the modified rule does not concern the present
discussion, any more than the earlier form, because it still
leaves open the possessory remedies to all bailees without
exception. This appears from the relation of the modified rule to
the ancient law; from the fact that Baron Parke, in the just
cited case of Manders v. Williams, hints that he would have been
prepared to apply the old rule to its full extent but for Gordon
v. Harper, and still more obviously from the fact, that the
bailee's right to trespass and trover is asserted in the same
breath with that of the bailor, as well as proved by express
decisions to be cited.

It is true that in Lotan v. Cross, /3/ Lord Ellenborough ruled at
nisi prius that a lender could maintain trespass for damage done
to a chattel in the hands of a borrower, and that the case is
often cited as authority without remark. Indeed, it is sometimes
laid down generally, in reputable text-books, that a gratuitous
bailment does not change the possession, but leaves it in the
bailor; /4/ that a gratuitous bailee is quasi a servant of the
bailor, and the possession of one is the possession of the other;
and that it is for this reason that, although the bailee may sue
on [174] his possession, the bailor has the same actions. /1/ A
part of this confusion has already been explained, and the rest
will be when I come to speak of servants, between whom and all
bailees there is a broad and well-known distinction. But on
whatever ground Lotan v. Cross may stand, if on any, it cannot
for a moment be admitted that borrowers in general have not
trespass and trover. A gratuitous deposit for the sole benefit of
the depositor is a much stronger case for the denial of these
remedies to the depositary; yet we have a decision by the full
court, in which Lord Ellenborough also took part, that a
depositary has case, the reasoning implying that a fortiori a
borrower would have trespass. And this has always been the law.
/2/ It has been seen that a similar doctrine necessarily resulted
from the nature of the early German procedure; and the cases
cited in the note show that, in this as in other respects, the
English followed the traditions of their race.

The meaning of the rule that all bailees have the possessory
remedies is, that in the theory of the common law every bailee
has a true possession, and that a bailee recovers on the strength
of his possession, just as a finder does, and as even a wrongful
possessor may have full damages or a return of the specific thing
from a stranger to the title. On the other hand, so far as the
possessory actions are still allowed to bailors, it is not on the
ground that they also have possession, but is probably by a
survival, which [175] explained, and which in the modern form of
the an anomaly. /1/ The reason usually given is, that a right of
immediate possession is sufficient,--a reason which the notion
that the bailor is actually possessed.

The point which is essential to understanding the common-law
theory of possession is now established: that all bailees from
time immemorial have been regarded by the English law as
possessors, and entitled to the possessory remedies. It is not
strictly necessary to go on and complete the proof that our law
of bailment is of pure German descent. But, apart from curiosity,
the doctrine remaining to be discussed has had such important
influence upon the law of the present day, that I shall follow it
out with some care. That doctrine was the absolute responsibility
of the bailee to the bailor, if the goods were wrongfully taken
from him. /2/

The early text-writers are not as instructive as might be hoped,
owing to the influence of the Roman law. Glanvil, however, says
in terms that, if a borrowed thing be destroyed or lost in any
way while in the borrower's custody, he is absolutely bound to
return a reasonable price. /3/ So does Bracton, who partially
repeats but modifies the language of Justinian as to commodatum,
depositum, and pignus; /4/ and as to the duty of the hirer to use
the care of a diligentissimus paterfamilias. /5/

[176] The language and decisions of the courts are perfectly
clear; and there we find the German tradition kept alive for
several centuries. I begin with the time of Edward II., about
1315. In detinue the plea was that the plaintiff delivered the
defendant a chest locked with his key, that the chattels were in
the chest, and that they were taken from the defendant together
with his own goods by robbery. The replication was that the goods
were delivered to the defendant out of enclosure, and Fitzherbert
says the party was driven to that issue; /1/ which implies that,
if not in the chest, but in the defendant's custody, he was
liable. Lord Holt, in Coggs v. Bernard, /2/ denies that the chest
would make any difference; but the old books agree that there is
no delivery if the goods are under lock and key; and this is the
origin of the distinction as to carriers breaking bulk in modern
criminal law. /3/ In the reign of Edward III., /4/ the case of a
pledge came up, which seems always to have been regarded as a
special bailment to keep as one's own goods. The defence was,
that the goods were stolen with the defendant's own. The
plaintiff was driven to reply a tender before the theft, which
would have put an end to the pledge, and left the defendant a
general bailee. /5/ Issue was taken thereon, which confirms the
other cases, by implying that in that event the defendant would
be liable.

Next I take a case of the time of Henry VI., A.D. 1455. /6/ [177]
was an action of debt against the Marshal of the Marshalsea, or
jailer of the King's Bench prison, for an escape of a prisoner.
Jailers in charge of prisoners were governed by the same law as
bailees in charge of cattle. The body of the prisoner was
delivered to the jailer to keep under the same liabilities that
cows or goods might have been. /1/ He set up in defence that
enemies of the king broke into the prison and carried off the
prisoner, against the will of the defendant. The question was
whether this was a good defence. The court said that, if alien
enemies of the king, for instance the French, released the
prisoner, or perhaps if the burning of the prison gave him a
chance to escape, the excuse would be good, "because then [the
defendant] has remedy against no one." But if subjects of the
king broke the prison, the defendant would be liable, for they
are not enemies, but traitors, and then, it is implied, the
defendant would have a right of action against them, and
therefore would himself be answerable. In this case the court got
very near to the original ground of liability, and distinguished
accordingly. The person intrusted was liable in those cases where
he had a remedy over against the wrong-doer (and in which,
originally, he was the only person who had such a remedy); and,
on the other hand, his liability, being founded on that
circumstance, ceased where the remedy ceased. The jailer could
not sue the soldiers of an invading army of Frenchmen; but in
theory he could sue any British subject who carried off the
prisoner, however little it was likely that he would get much
satisfaction in that way.

A few years later the law is stated the same way by the famous
Littleton. He says that, if goods are delivered to [178] a man,
he shall have an action of trespass if they are carried off, for
he is chargeable over. /1/ That is, he is bound to make the loss
good to the party who intrusted him.

In 9 Edward IV., /2/ Danby says if a bailee received goods to
keep as his proper goods, then robbery shall excuse him,
otherwise not. Again, in a later case /3/ robbery is said not to
be an excuse. There may have been some hesitation as to robbery
when the robber was unknown, and so the bailee had no remedy
over, /4/ or even as to robbery generally, on the ground that by
reason of the felony the bailee could not go against either the
robber's body or his estate; for the one was hanged and the other
forfeited. /5/ But there is not a shadow of doubt that the bailee
was not excused by an ordinary wrongful taking. "If the goods are
taken by a trespasser, of whom the bailee has conusance, he shall
be chargeable to his bailor, and shall have his action over
against his trespasser." /6/ The same point was touched in other
passages of the Year Books, /7/ and the rule of law is clearly
implied by the reason which was given for the bailee's right to
sue in the cases cited above.

The principle was directly decided in accordance with the ancient
law in the famous case of Southcote v. Bennet. /8/ This was
detinue of goods delivered to the defendant to [179] keep safely.
The defendant confessed the delivery, and set up he was robbed of
the goods by J.S. "And, after argument at the bar, Gawdy and
Clench, ceteris absentibus, held that the plaintiff ought to
recover, because it was not a special bailment; that the
defendant accepted them to keep as his proper goods, and not
otherwise; but it is a delivery, which chargeth him to keep them
at his peril. And it is not any plea in a detinue to say that he
was robbed by one such; for he hath his remedy over by trespass,
or appeal, to have them again." The above from Croke's report
implies, what Lord Coke expressly says, that "to be kept, and to
be kept safe, is all one," and both reports agree that the
obligation was founded on the delivery alone. Croke's report
confirms the caution which Lord Coke adds to his report: "Note,
reader, it is good policy for him who takes any goods to keep, to
take them in special manner, scil. to keep them as he keeps his
own goods,... or if they happen to be stolen or purloined, that
he shall not be answerable for them; for he who accepted them
ought to take them in such or the like manner, or otherwise he
may be charged by his general acceptance."

Down to this time, at least, it was clear law that, if a person
accepted the possession of goods to keep for another even as a
favor, and lost them by wrongful taking, wholly without his
fault, he was bound to make good the loss, unless when he took
possession he expressly stipulated against such a responsibility.
The attempts of Lord Holt in Coggs v. Bernard, and of Sir William
Jones in his book on Bailments, to show that Southcote v. Bennet
was not sustained by authority, were futile, as any one who will
Study the Year Books for himself may see. The same principle was
laid down seven years before by Peryam, [180] C. B., in Drake v.
Royman, /1/ and Southcote's Case was followed as a leading
precedent without question for a hundred years.

Thus the circle of analogies between the English and the early
German law is complete. There is the same procedure for lost
property, turning on the single question whether the plaintiff
had lost possession against his will; the same principle that, if
the person intrusted with the property parted with it to another,
the owner could not recover it, but must get his indemnity from
his bailee; the same inverted explanation, that the bailee could
sue because he was answerable over, but the substance of the true
doctrine in the rule that when he had no remedy he was not
answerable; and, finally, the same absolute responsibility for
loss, even when happening without fault on the part of the person
intrusted. The last and most important of these principles is
seen in force as late as the reign of Queen Elizabeth. We have
now to follow its later fortunes.

A common carrier is liable for goods which are stolen from him,
or otherwise lost from his charge except by the act of God or the
public enemy. Two notions have been entertained with regard to
the source of this rule: one, that it was borrowed from the Roman
law; /2/ the other, that it was introduced by custom, as an
exception to the general law of bailment, in the reigns of
Elizabeth and James I. /3/

I shall try to show that both these notions are wrong, that this
strict responsibility is a fragmentary survival from the general
law of bailment which I have just explained; [181] the
modifications which the old law has undergone were due in part to
a confusion of ideas which came the displacement of detinue by
the action on the case, in part to conceptions of public policy
which were read into the precedents by Lord Holt, and in part to
still later conceptions of policy which have been read into the
reasonings of Lord Holt by later judges.

Southcote's Case was decided in the forty-third year of Queen
Elizabeth (A.D. 1601). I think the first mention of a carrier,
pertinent to the question, occurs in Woodlife's Case, /1/ decided
four or five years earlier (38 or 39 Eliz., A.D. 1596 or 1597).
It was an action of account for merchandise delivered to the
defendant, it would seem as a factor ("pur
merchandizer")--clearly not as a carrier. Plea, robbery at sea
with defendant's own goods. Gawdy, one of the judges who decided
Southcote's Case, thought the plea bad; but Popham, C. J. said
that, though it would not be a good plea for a carrier because he
is paid for his carriage, there was a difference in this respect
between carriers and other servants and factors.

This is repeated in Southcote's Case, and appears to involve a
double distinction,--first between paid and unpaid bailees, next
between bailees and servants. If the defendant was a servant not
having control over the goods, he might not fall within the law
of bailment, and factors are treated on the footing of servants
in the early law.

The other diversity marked the entrance of the doctrine of
consideration into the law of bailment. Consideration originally
meant quid pro quo, as will be explained hereafter. It was thus
dealt with in Doctor and Student /2/ when the principle was still
young. Chief Justice [183] Popham probably borrowed his
distinction between paid and unpaid bailees from that work, where
common carriers are mentioned as an example of the former class.
A little earlier, reward made no difference. /1/

But in Woodlife's Case, in reply to what the Chief Justice had
said, Gawdy cited the case of the Marshal of the King's Bench,
/2/ stated above, whereupon Popham fell back on the old
distinction that the jailer had a remedy over against the rebels,
but that there was no remedy over in the case at bar.

The other cases relied on were some of those on general bailment
collected above; the same authorities, in short, on which
Southcote's Case was founded. The principle adopted was the same
as in Southcote's Case, subject only to the question whether the
defendant fell within it. Nothing was said of any custom of the
realm, or ever had been in any reported case before this time;
and I believe this to be the first instance in which carriers are
in any way distinguished from any other class of persons
intrusted with goods. There is no hint of any special obligation
peculiar to them in the old books; and it certainly is not true,
that this case introduced one. It will be noticed, with reference
to what follows, that Popham does not speak of common carriers,
but of carriers.

Next came Southcote's Case /3/ (43 Eliz., A.D. 1601), which
presented the old law pure and simple, irrespective of reward or
any modern innovation. In this and the earlier instances of loss
by theft, the action was detinue, counting, we may presume,
simply on a delivery and wrongful detainer.

[183] But about this time important changes took place in the
procedure usually adopted, which must be explained. If the
chattel could be returned in specie, detinue afforded no
satisfaction for damage which it might have suffered through the
bailee's neglect. /1/ The natural remedy for such damage was the
action on the case. But before this could be made entirely
satisfactory, there were certain difficulties to be overcome. The
neglect which occasioned the damage might be a mere omission, and
what was there akin to trespass in a nonfeasance to sustain the
analogy upon which trespass on the case was founded? Moreover, to
charge a man for not acting, you must show that it was his duty
to act. As pleadings were formerly construed, it would not have
been enough to allege that the plaintiff's goods were damaged by
the defendant's negligence. /2/ These troubles had been got over
by the well-known words, super se assumpsit, which will be
explained later. Assumpsit did not for a long time become an
independent action of contract, and the allegation was simply the
inducement to an action of tort. The ground of liability was that
the defendant had started upon the undertaking, so that his
negligent omission, which let in the damage, could be connected
with his acts as a part of his dealing with the thing. /3/ We
shall find Lord Holt recognizing this original purport of
assumpsit when we come to Coggs v. Bernard. Of course it was not
confined to cases of bailment.

But there was another way besides this by which the defendant
could be charged with a duty and made liable [184] in case, and
which, although less familiar to lawyers, has a special bearing
on the law of carriers in later times. If damage had been done or
occasioned by the act or omission of the defendant in the pursuit
of some of the more common callings, such as that of a farrier,
it seems that the action could be maintained, without laying an
assumpsit, on the allegation that he was a "common" farrier. /1/
The latter principle was also wholly independent of bailment. It
expressed the general obligation of those exercising a public or
"common" business to practise their art on demand, and show skill
in it. "For," as Fitzherbert says, "it is the duty of every
artificer to exercise his art rightly and truly as he ought." /2/

When it had thus been established that case would lie for damage
when occasioned by the omission, as well as when caused by the
act, of the defendant, there was no reason for denying it, even
if the negligent custody had resulted in the destruction of the
property. /3/ From this it was but a step to extend the same form
of action to all cases of loss by a bailee, and so avoid the
defendant's right to wage his law. Detinue, the primitive remedy,
retained that mark of primitive procedure. The last extension was
made about the time of Southcote's Case. /4/ But when the [185]
same form of action thus came to be used alike for damage or
destruction by the bailee's neglect and for loss by a wrong-doer
against whom the bailee had a remedy over, a source was opened
for confusion with regard to the foundation and nature of the
defendant's duty.

In truth, there were two sets of duties,--one not peculiar to
bailees, arising from the assumpsit or public calling of the
defendant, as just explained; the other, the ancient obligation,
peculiar to them as such, of which Southcote's Case was an
example. But any obligation of a bailee might be conceived of as
part of a contract of bailment, after assumpsit had become
appropriated to contract, the doctrine of consideration had been
developed, (both of which had happened in Lord Coke's time,) it
seemed unnecessary to distinguish nicely between the two sets of
duties just mentioned, provided a consideration and special
promise could be alleged. Furthermore, as formerly the
defendant's public calling had the same effect as an assumpsit
for the purpose of charging him in tort, it seems now to have
been thought an equally good substitute for a special promise, in
order to charge him in assumpsit. In Rogers v. Head, /1/ the
argument was, that to charge one in assumpsit you must show
either his public calling at the time of the delivery, or a
special promise on sufficient consideration. This argument
assumes that a bailee who received goods in the course of a
public employment, [186] for instance as a common carrier, could
be charged in this form of action for a breach of either of the
above sets of duties, by alleging either his public calling or
his reward and a special promise. It seems to have been admitted,
as was repeatedly decided before and since that case, that one
who was not a common carrier could have been charged for
non-delivery in a special action; that is, in case as
distinguished from assumpsit.

Suppose, next, that the plaintiff sued in case for a tort. As
before, the breach of duty complained of might be such damage to
property as had always been sued for in that form of action, or
it might be a loss by theft for which detinue would formerly have
been brought, and which fell on the bailee only by reason of the
bailment. If the goods had been stolen, the bailee's liability
rested neither on his common calling nor on his assumpsit and his
neglect, but arose from the naked facts that he had accepted a
delivery and that the goods were gone, and in such cases it ought
to have been enough to allege those facts in the declaration. /1/
But it was very natural that the time-honored foundations for the
action on the case in its more limited application should still
be laid in the pleadings, even after the scope of the action had
been enlarged. We shall have to inquire, later, whether the
principles of Southcote's Case were not also extended in the
opposite direction to cases not falling within it. The reasons
for the rule which it laid down had lost their meaning centuries
before Gawdy and Clench were born, when owners had acquired the
right to sue for the wrongful taking of property in the hands
[187] and the rule itself was a dry precedent likely to be
followed according to the letter because the spirit had departed.
It had begun to totter when the reporter cautioned bailees to
accept in such terms as to get rid of it. /1/

Accordingly, although that decision was the main authority relied
on for the hundred years between it and Coggs v. Bernard whenever
a peculiar responsibility was imposed upon bailees, we find that
sometimes an assumpsit was laid as in the early precedents, /2/
or more frequently that the bailee was alleged to be a common
bargeman, or common carrier, or the like, without much reference
to the special nature of the tort in question; and that the true
bearing of the allegation was sometimes lost sight of. At first,
however, there were only some slight signs of confusion in the
language of one or two cases, and if the duty was conceived to
fall within the principle of Southcote's Case, pleaders did not
always allege the common or public calling which was held
unnecessary. /3/ But they also adopted other devices from the
precedents in case, or to strengthen an obligation which they did
not well understand. Chief Justice Popham had sanctioned a
distinction between paid and unpaid bailees, hence it was deemed
prudent to lay a reward. Negligence was of course averred; and
finally it became frequent to allege an obligation by the law and
custom of the realm. This last deserves a little further
attention.

There is no writ in the Register alleging any special obligation
of common carriers by the custom of the realm. But the writ
against innkeepers did lay a duly "by the [188] law and custom of
England," and it was easy to adopt the phrase. The allegation did
not so much imply the existence of a special principle, as state
a proposition of law in the form which was then usual. There are
other writs of trespass which allege a common-law duty in the
same way, and others again setting forth a statutory obligation.
/1/ So "the judges were sworn to execute justice according to law
and the custom of England." /2/

The duties of a common carrier, so far as the earlier evidence
goes, were simply those of bailees in general, coupled with the
liabilities generally attached to the exercise of a public
calling. The word "common" addressed itself only to the latter
point, as has been shown above. This is further illustrated by
the fact that, when the duty was thus set forth, it was not
alleged as an obligation peculiar to common carriers as such, but
was laid as the custom of law of common hoymen, or lightermen,
&c., according to the business of the party concerned. It will be
noticed that Chief Justice Holt in Coggs v. Bernard states the
liability as applicable to all bailees for reward, exercising a
public employment, and mentions common hoymen and masters of
ships alongside of, not as embraced under, common carriers. It
will also be noticed in the cases before that time, that there is
no settled formula for the obligation in question, but that it is
set forth in each case that the defendant was answerable for what
he was said to have done or omitted in the particular instance.
/3/

[189] Returning now to the succession of the cases, Rich v.
Kneeland is the next in order (11 Jac. I., A.D. 1613). It was an
action on the case (tort), against a common hoyman. In Croke's
report nothing is said of custom; but the declaration avers that
the defendant was a common bargeman, that the plaintiff delivered
him a portmanteau, &c. to carry, and paid him for it, and that
the defendant tam negligenter custodivit, that it was taken from
him by persons unknown,--like the second count in Morse v. Slue,
below. The plea was demurred to, and adjudged for the plaintiff.
A writ of error being brought, it was assigned that "this action
lies not against a common bargeman without special promise. But
all the Justices and Barons held, that it well lies as against a
common carrier upon the land." If we follow this report, it seems
at the first glance that importance was attributed to the common
calling. But as the loss was clearly within the principle of
Southcote's Case, which required neither special promise nor
common calling for its application, and which remained
unquestioned law for three quarters of a century later, the court
must have referred to the form of action employed (case), and not
to the liability of the defendant in some form of action
(detinue). The objection was that "this action lies not," not
that the defendant not liable, "without special promise." Even
thus narrowed, it rather countenances the notion that allegations
which were necessary to charge a man for damage happening through
his neglect, in the more ancient and use of this action, were
also necessary in this new [190] extension of it to a different
class of wrongs. As it was now pretty clear that case would lie
for a nonfeasance, the notion was mistaken, and we shall see that
it was denied in subsequent decisions. /1/

According to Hobart's report, it was alleged that the defendant
was a common hoyman, to carry goods by water, for hire, &c., that
by the custom of England such carriers ought to keep the goods,
&c., so as they should not be lost by the default of them or
their servants, &c. "And it was resolved that, though it was laid
as a custom of the realm, yet indeed it is common law." This last
resolution may only mean that the custom of the realm and the
common law are the same thing, as had been said concerning
innkeepers long before. /2/ But the law as to innkeepers, which
was called the custom of the realm in the writ, had somewhat the
air of a special principle extending beyond the law of bailment,
inasmuch as their liability extended to goods within the inn, of
which they had not the custody, and the court may have meant to
make an antithesis between such a special principle and the
common law or general law of bailment governing the present case.

Whatever doubts some of Croke's language might raise, standing
alone, the fact remains indisputable, that for nearly a century
from Woodlife's Case the liability of carriers for loss of goods,
whether the custom of the realm or the defendant's common calling
was alleged or not, was placed upon the authority and was
intended to be decided on the principle of Southcote's Case.

[191] Symons v. Darknell 1 (4 Car. I., A.D. 1628) is precisely in
point. The declaration was, that, by the common law, every
lighterman ought so to manage his lighter that the goods carried
therein should not perish. "And although no promise laid, it
seemed to the court that the plaintiff should recover; and not
alleging that defendant was common lighterman was no harm. Hyde,
C. J., delivery makes the contract." This did not mean that
delivery was a good consideration for a promise; but, as was laid
down in Southcote's Case, that delivery, without a special
acceptance to keep only as one's own goods, bound the bailee to
keep safely, and therefore made it unnecessary to allege either
an assumpsit or the defendant's common calling. Whitlock, J.
called attention to the fact that the action was tort, not
contract. "Et en cest case... Southcote's Case fuit cite."

The same rule is stated as to bailments in general, the same
year, by Sergeant Maynard arguendo in Williams v. Hide, /2/ again
citing Southcote's Case.

In Kenrig v. Eggleston /3/ (24 Car. I., A.D. 1648), "case against
a country carrier for not delivering a box," &c., of which he was
robbed, nothing was said about custom, nor being a common
carrier, unless the above words imply that he was; but it was
laid down, as in Southcote's Case, that "it must come on the
carrier's part acceptance" if he would lessen his liability as
bailee.

Nichols v. Moore /4/ (13 Car. II., A.D. 1661) was case against a
"water carrier," between Hull and London, laying a delivery to
him at York. It was moved in arrest of [192] judgment, that the
defendant did not undertake to carry the goods from York to Hull.
"But notwithstanding this per totam curiam, the defendant shall
be charged on his general receipt at York, according to
Southcote's Case."

It is fair to mention that in Matthews v. Hopkins /1/ (17 Car.
II.)the declaration was on the custom of the realm against a
common carrier, and there was a motion in arrest of judgment,
because there was a misrecital of the custom of the realm, and
the defendant was not alleged to have been a carrier at the time
of the receipt, and also because counts in trover, and in case on
the custom, were joined. Judgment was arrested, it would seem on
the latter ground, but the court continued: "And, although the
declaration may be good without recital of the custom of the
realm, as Hobart says, still it is the better way to recite it."

We now come to the great case of Morse v. Slue /2/ (23 & 24 Car.
II., A.D. 1671, 1672). This was an action against the master of a
ship lying in the river Thames, for the loss of goods intrusted
to him. The goods in question were taken away by robbers, and it
was found that the ship had the usual guard at the time. There
seem to have been two counts, one on the law and custom of
England (1 Vent. 190), for masters of ships "carefully to govern,
preserve, and defend goods shipped, so long as said ship should
remain in the river Thames" (2 Keb. 866); "to keep safely [goods
shipped to be carried from London beyond sea] without loss or
subtraction, ita quodpro defectu of them they may not come to any
damage" (1 Vent. 190); "to keep safely goods delivered to them to
carry, dangers [193] of the sea excepted" (2 Levinz, 69; the
exception last was perhaps drawn by the reporter from the usual
bills of lading referred to in argument). The second count, which
is usually overlooked, was a special count "on delivery and being
stolen by his neglect." /1/

The case was twice argued, and all the reports agree, as far as
they go, in their statements of the points insisted on.

Holt, for the plaintiff, maintained: /2/ 1. That the master
receives goods generally, citing Southcote's Case, and that in
"only guardian in socage who hath the custody by law, who factor
who is servant at the master's dispose, and so cannot take care,
are exempt." 2. That the master has a reward for his keeping, and
is therefore a proper person to be sued. 3. That the master has a
remedy over, citing the case of the Marshal of the King's Bench.
/3/ That the mischief would be great if the master were not
liable, as merchants put their trust in him, and no particular
default be shown, as appears by the bill of lading, and, finally,
that neglect appeared.

On the other side, it was urged that no neglect was found, and
that the master was only a servant; so that, if any one was
liable, the owners were. /4/ It was also suggested that, as there
would have been no liability if the goods had been taken at sea,
when the case would have within the admiralty law, it was absurd
that a different rule should govern the beginning of the voyage
from would have governed the rest of it. /5/

[194] On the second argument, it was again maintained for the
plaintiff that the defendant was liable "at the common law on the
general bailment," citing Southcote's Case, and also that, by the
Roman and maritime law, he was liable as a public carrier and
master of a ship.

The opinion of the court was delivered by Chief Justice Hale. It
was held that, the ship being within the body of the county, the
admiralty law did not apply; or, according to 1 Mod. 85, note a,
"the master could not avail himself of the rules of the civil
law, by which masters are not chargeable pro damno fatali"; that
the master was liable to an action because he took a reward; that
"he might have made a caution for himself, which he omitting and
taking in the goods generally, he shall answer for what happens."
/1/ The case of Kenrig v. Eggleston /2/ seems also to have been
referred to. It was further said that the master was rather an
officer than a servant, and in effect received his wages from the
merchant who paid freight. Finally, on the question of
negligence, that it was not sufficient to have the usual number
of men to guard the ship, but that it was neglect not to have
enough to guard the goods, unless in case of the common enemies,
citing the case of the Marshal, which it will be remembered was
merely the principle of Southcote's Case and the common law of
bailment in another form. /3/

It will be observed that this case did not go on any special
custom, either as to common carriers or shipmasters, but that all
the arguments and the opinion of the court assumed that, if the
case was to be governed by the common law, and not by the milder
provisions of the civil [195] law relied on for the defence, and
if the defendant could be regarded as a bailee, and not merely a
servant of the owners, then the general law of bailment would
apply, and the defendant would be charged, as in Southcote's
Case, "by his general acceptance."

It can hardly be supposed, however, that so enlightened a judge
as Sir Matthew Hale would not have broken away the Year Books, if
a case had arisen before him where property had been received as
a pure favor to the plaintiff, without consideration or reward,
and was taken from the defendant by robbery. Such a case was
tried before Chief Justice Pemberton, and he very sensibly ruled
that no action lay, declining to follow the law of Lord Coke's
time to such extreme results /1/ (33 Car. II., A.D. 1681).

About the same time, the defendant's common calling began to
assume a new importance. The more important alternative
allegation, the assumpsit, had the effect in the end of
introducing the not intrinsically objectionable doctrine that all
duties arising from a bailment are founded on contract. /2/ But
this allegation, having now a special action to which it had
given rise, was not much used where the action was tort, while
the other averment occurs with increasing frequency. The notion
was evidently gaining ground that the liability of common
carriers for loss of [196] goods, whatever the cause of the loss
might be, arose from a special principle peculiar to them, and
not applicable to bailees in general. The confusion of
independent duties which has been explained, and of which the
first trace was seen in Rich v. Kneeland, was soon to become
complete. /1/ Holt became Chief Justice. Three of the cases in
the last note were rulings of his. In Lane v. Cotton /2/ (13
Will. III., A.D. 1701), he showed his disapproval of Southcote's
Case, and his impression that the common law of bailment was
borrowed from Rome. The overthrow of Southcote's Case and the old
common law may be said to date from Coggs v. Bernard /3/ (2 Anne,
A.D. 1703). Lord Holt's famous opinion in the latter case quotes
largely from the Roman law as it filtered to him through Bracton;
but, whatever influence that may have had upon his general views,
the point decided and the distinctions touching common carriers
were of English growth.

The action did not sound in contract. The cause was for damage to
the goods, and the plaintiff sued for a tort, laying an assumpsit
by way of inducement to a charge of negligence, as in the days of
Henry VI. The plea was not guilty. But after verdict for the
plaintiff, there was a motion in arrest of judgment, "for that it
was not alleged in the declaration that the defendant was a
common porter, nor averred that he had anything for his pains."
Consideration was never alleged or thought of in the primitive
assumpsit, but in the modern action of contract in that form [197]
it was required. Hence, it was inferred that, wherever an
assumpsit was laid, even in all action of tort for damage to
property, it was the allegation of a contract, and that a
consideration must be shown for the undertaking, although the
contrary had been decided in the reign of Queen Elizabeth. /1/
But the motion did not prevail, and judgment was given for the
plaintiff. Lord Holt was well aware that the use of an assumpsit
was not confined to contract. It is true that he said, "The
owner's trusting [the defendant] with the goods is a sufficient
consideration to oblige him to a careful management," or to
return them; but this means as distinguished from a consideration
sufficient to oblige him to carry them, which he thought the
defendant would not have been bound to do. He then expressly
says, "This is a different case, for assumpsit does not only
signify a future agreement, but, in such cases as this, it
signifies an actual entry upon the thing and taking the trust
upon himself"; following the earlier cases in the Year Books. /2/
This was enough for the decision, and the rule in Southcote's
Case had nothing to do with the matter. But as the duty of common
carriers by reason of their calling was now supposed to extend to
all kinds of losses, and the doctrine of Southcote's Case was
probably supposed to extend to many kinds of damage, it became
necessary, in a general discussion, to reconcile or elect between
the two principles.

The Chief Justice therefore proceeded to distinguish between
[198] bailees for reward exercising a public employment, such as
common carriers, common hoymen, masters of ships, &c., and other
bailees; denied the rule in Southcote's Case as to the latter;
said that the principle of strict responsibility was confined to
the former class, and was applied to them on grounds of public
policy, and that factors were exonerated, not because they were
mere servants, as had always been laid down (among others, by
himself in arguing Morse v. Slue), but because they were not
within the reason of the rule.

The reader who has followed the argument so far, will hardly need
to be convinced that this did not mean the adoption of the
Praetor's Edict. There is further evidence at hand if required.

In the first place, as we have seen, there was a century of
precedents ending with Morse v. Slue, argued by Holt himself, in
which the liability of masters of ships, hoymen, carriers, &c.
had been adjudicated. Morse v. Slue is cited and relied on, and
there is no hint of dissatisfaction with the other cases. On the
contrary, they furnished the examples of bailees for reward
exercising a public calling. The distinction between bailees for
reward and others is Chief Justice Popham's; the latter
qualification (exercising a public calling) was also English, as
has partly appeared already, and as will be explained further on.

In the next place, the strict rule is not confined to nautae,
caupones, and stabularii, nor even to common carriers; but is
applied to all bailees for reward, exercising a public calling.

In the next place, the degree of responsibility is precisely that
of bailees in general, as worked out by the previous decisions;
but quite unlike and much more severe [199] than that imposed by
the Roman law, as others have observed. /1/

And, finally, the exemption from liability for acts of God or the
public enemy is characteristically English, as will be proved
further on.

But it has been partially shown in this Lecture that the law of
to-day has made the carrier's burden heavier than it was in the
time of the Year Books. Southcote's Case, and the earlier
authorities which have been cited, all refer to a loss by
robbery, theft, or trespass, and hold the bailee liable, where,
in theory at least, he has a remedy over. It was with reference
to such cases, as has been seen, that the rule arose, although it
is not improbable that it would have been applied to an
unexplained loss; the writ against innkeepers reads absque
subtractionie seu amissione custodire. In later times, the
principle may have been extended from loss by theft to loss by
destruction. In Symons v. Darknoll /2/ (4 Car. I.), already cited
as decided on the authority of Southcote's Case, the goods were
spoiled, not stolen, and probably had not even perished in
specie. Before this time, the old rule had become an arbitrary
precedent, followed according to its form with little thought of
its true intent.

The language of Coggs v. Bernard is, that "the law charges the
person thus intrusted to carry goods as against all events but
acts of God and the enemies of the king." This was adopted by
solemn decision in Lord Mansfield's time, and it is now settled
that the common carrier "is liable for all losses which do not
fall within the excepted [200] cases." /1/ That is to say, he has
become an insurer to that extent, not only against the
disappearance or destruction, but against all forms of damage to
the goods except as excepted above.

The process by which this came to pass has been traced above, but
a few words may be added here. The Year Books, even in dealing
with the destruction (as distinguished from the conversion) of
chattels in the hands of a bailee, always state his liability as
based upon his fault, although it must be admitted that the
language is used alio intuitu. /2/ A jettison, in tempest, seems
to have been a good plea for a factor in the time of Edward III.;
/3/ but that cannot be relied on for an analogy. The argument
from the Marshal's case /4/ is stronger. There it appears to have
been thought that burning of the prison was as good an excuse for
an escape as a release by alien enemies. This must refer to an
accidental fire, and would seem to imply that he was not liable
in that event, if not in fault. The writs in the Register against
bailees to keep or carry goods, all have the general allegation
of negligence, and so do the older precedents of declarations, so
far as I have observed, whether stating the custom of the realm
or not. /5/ But a bailee was answerable for goods wrongfully
taken from him, as an innkeeper was for goods stolen from his
inn, irrespective of negligence. /6/

It is true that the Marshal's case speaks of his negligent [201]
keeping when the prisoners were released by rebels, (although
that was far less likely to result from negligence, one would
think, than a fire in the prison,) and that after Lord Coke's
time negligence was alleged, although the goods had been lost by
wrongful taking. So the writ against innkeepers is pro defectu
hujusmodi hospitatorum. In these instances, neglect only means a
failure de facto to keep safely. As was said at a much later
date, "everything is a negligence in a carrier or hoyman that the
law does not excuse." /1/ The allegation is simply the usual
allegation of actions on the case, and seems to have extended
itself from the earlier declarations for damage, when case
supplanted detinue and the use of the former action became
universal. It can hardly have been immaterial to the case for
which it was first introduced. But the short reason for
disbelieving that there was any warrant in the old law for making
the carrier an insurer against damage is, that there seem to be
no early cases in which bailees were held to such a
responsibility, and that it was not within the principle on which
they were made answerable for a loss by theft.

Having traced the process by which a common carrier has been made
an insurer, it only remains to say a word upon the origin of the
admitted exceptions from the risk assumed. It has been seen
already how loss by the public enemy came to be mentioned by
Chief Justice Holt. It is the old distinction taken in the
Marshal's case that there the bailee has no remedy over.

With regard to the act of God, it was a general principle, not
peculiar to carriers nor to bailees, that a duty was [202]
discharged if an act of God made it impossible of performance.
Lord Coke mentions the case of jettison from a Gravesend barge,
/1/ and another of a party bound to keep and maintain sea-walls
from overflowing, as subject to the same limitation, /2/ and a
similar statement as to contracts in general will be found in the
Year Books. /3/ It is another form of the principle which has
been laboriously reargued in our own day, that parties are
excused from the performance of a contract which has become
impossible before breach from the perishing of the thing, or from
change of circumstances the continued existence of which was the
foundation of the contract, provided there was no warranty and no
fault on the part of the contractor. Whether the act of God has
now acquired a special meaning with regard to common carriers may
be left for others to consider.

It appears, from the foregoing evidence, that we cannot determine
what classes of bailees are subject to the strict responsibility
imposed on common carriers by referring to the Praetor's Edict
and then consulting the lexicons under Nautoe, Caupones, or
Stabularii. The question of precedent is simply to what extent
the old common law of bailment still survives. We can only answer
it by enumerating the decisions in which the old law is applied;
and we shall find it hard to bring them together under a general
principle. The rule in Southcote's Case has been done away with
for bailees in general: that is clear. But it is equally clear
that it has not maintained itself, even within the limits of the
public policy invented by Chief Justice [203] Holt. It is not
true to-day that all bailees for reward exercising a public
calling are insurers. No such doctrine is applied to
grain-elevators or deposit-vaults. /1/

How Lord Holt came to distinguish between bailees for reward and
others has been shown above. It is more pertinent here to notice
that his further qualification, exercising a public calling, was
part of a protective system which has passed away. One adversely
inclined might say that it was one of many signs that the law was
administered in the interest of the upper classes. It has been
shown above that if a man was a common farrier he could be
charged for negligence without an assumpsit. The same judge who
threw out that intimation established in another case that he
could be sued if he refused to shoe a horse on reasonable
request. /2/ Common carriers and common innkeepers were liable in
like case, and Lord Holt stated the principle: "If a man takes
upon him a public employment, he is bound to serve the public as
far as the employment extends, and for refusal an action lies."
/3/ An attempt to apply this doctrine generally at the present
day would be thought monstrous. But it formed part of a
consistent scheme for holding those who followed useful callings
up to the mark. Another part was the liability of persons
exercising a public employment for loss or damage, enhanced in
cases of bailment by what remained of the rule in Southcote's
Case. The scheme has given way to more liberal notions; but the
disjecta membra still move.

Lord Mansfield stated his views of public policy in terms [204]
not unlike those used by Chief Justice Holt in Coggs v. Bernard,
but distinctly confines their application to common carriers.
"But there is a further degree of responsibility by the custom of
the realm, that is, by the common law; a carrier is in the nature
of an insurer.... To prevent litigation, collusion, and the
necessity of going into circumstances impossible to be
unravelled, the law presumes against the carrier, unless," &c.
/1/

At the present day it is assumed that the principle is thus
confined, and the discussion is transferred to the question who
are common carriers. It is thus conceded, by implication, that
Lord Holt's rule has been abandoned. But the trouble is, that
with it disappear not only the general system which we have seen
that Lord Holt entertained, but the special reasons repeated by
Lord Mansfield. Those reasons apply to other bailees as well as
to common carriers. Besides, hoymen and masters of ships were not
originally held because they were common carriers, and they were
all three treated as co-ordinate species, even in Coggs v.
Bernard, where they were mentioned only as so many instances of
bailees exercising a public calling. We do not get a new and
single principle by simply giving a single name to all the cases
to be accounted for. If there is a sound rule of public policy
which ought to impose a special responsibility upon common
carriers, as those words are now understood, and upon no others,
it has never yet been stated. If, on the other hand, there are
considerations which apply to a particular class among those so
designated,--for instance, to railroads, who may have a private
individual at their mercy, or exercise a power too vast for the
common welfare,--we do not prove that the [205] reasoning extends
to a general ship or a public cab by calling all three common
carriers.

If there is no common rule of policy, and common carriers remain
a merely empirical exception from general doctrine, courts may
well hesitate to extend the significance of those words.
Furthermore, notions of public policy which would not leave
parties free to make their own bargains are somewhat discredited
in most departments of the law. /1/ Hence it may perhaps be
concluded that, if any new case should arise, the degree of
responsibility, and the validity and interpretation of any
contract of bailment that there may be, should stand open to
argument on general principles, and that the matter has been set
at large so far as early precedent is concerned.

I have treated of the law of carriers at greater length than is
proportionate, because it seems to me an interesting example of
the way in which the common law has grown up, and, especially,
because it is an excellent illustration of the principles laid
down at the end of the first Lecture. I now proceed to the
discussion for the sake of which an account of the law of
bailment was introduced, and to which an understanding of that
part of the law is a necessary preliminary.

[206]




LECTURE VI. -- POSSESSION.

POSSESSION is a conception which is only less important than
contract. But the interest attaching to the theory of possession
does not stop with its practical importance in the body of
English law. The theory has fallen into the hands of the
philosophers, and with them has become a corner-stone of more
than one elaborate structure. It will be a service to sound
thinking to show that a far more civilized system than the Roman
is framed upon a plan which is irreconcilable with the a priori
doctrines of Kant and Hegel. Those doctrines are worked out in
careful correspondence with German views of Roman law. And most
of the speculative jurists of Germany, from Savigny to Ihering,
have been at once professors of Roman law, and profoundly
influenced if not controlled by some form of Kantian or
post-Kantian philosophy. Thus everything has combined to give a
special bent to German speculation, which deprives it of its
claim to universal authority.

Why is possession protected by the law, when the possessor is not
also an owner? That is the general problem which has much
exercised the German mind. Kant, it is well known, was deeply
influenced in his opinions upon ethics and law by the
speculations of Rousseau. Kant, Rousseau, and the Massachusetts
Bill of Rights agree that all men are born free and equal, and
one or the other branch of that declaration has afforded the
answer to the [207] question why possession should be protected
from that day to this. Kant and Hegel start from freedom. The
freedom of the will, Kant said, is the essence of man. It is an
end in itself; it is that which needs no further explanation,
which is absolutely to be respected, and which it is the very end
and object of all government to realize and affirm. Possession is
to be protected because a man by taking possession of an object
has brought it within the sphere of his will. He has extended his
personality into or over that object. As Hegel would have said,
possession is the objective realization of free will. And by
Kant's postulate, the will of any individual thus manifested is
entitled to absolute respect from every other individual, and can
only be overcome or set aside by the universal will, that is, by
the state, acting through its organs, the courts.

Savigny did not follow Kant on this point. He said that every act
of violence is unlawful, and seemed to consider protection of
possession a branch of protection to the person. /1/ But to this
it was answered that possession was protected against disturbance
by fraud as well as by force, and his view is discredited. Those
who have been contented with humble grounds of expediency seem to
have been few in number, and have recanted or are out of favor.

The majority have followed in the direction pointed out by Kant.
Bruns, an admirable writer, expresses a characteristic yearning
of the German mind, when he demands an internal juristic
necessity drawn from the nature of possession itself, and
therefore rejects empirical reasons. /2/ He finds the necessity
he seeks in the freedom of the human will, which the whole legal
system does but recognize [208] and carry out. Constraint of it
is a wrong, which must be righted without regard to conformity of
the will to law, and so on in a Kantian vein. /1/ So Gans, a
favorite disciple of Hegel, "The will is of itself a substantial
thing to be protected, and this individual will has only to yield
to the higher common will." /2/ So Puchta, a great master, "The
will which wills itself, that is, the recognition of its own
personality, is to be protected." /3/

The chief variation from this view is that of Windscheid, a
writer now in vogue. He prefers the other branch of the
declaration in the Bill of Rights. He thinks that the protection
to possession stands on the same grounds as protection against
injuria, that every one is the equal of every other in the state,
and that no one shall raise himself over the other. /4/ Ihering,
to be sure, a man of genius, took an independent start, and said
that possession is ownership on the defensive; and that, in favor
of the owner, he who is exercising ownership in fact (i. e. the
possessor) is freed from the necessity of proving title against
one who is in an unlawful position. But to this it was well
answered by Bruns, in his later work, that it assumes the title
of disseisors to be generally worse than that of disseisees,
which cannot be taken for granted, and which probably is not true
in fact. /5/

It follows from the Kantian doctrine, that a man in possession is
to be confirmed and maintained in it until he is put out by an
action brought for the purpose. Perhaps [209] another fact
besides those which have been mentioned has influenced this
reasoning, and that is the accurate division between possessory
and petitory actions or defences in Continental procedure. /1/
When a defendant in a possessory action is not allowed to set up
title in himself, a theorist readily finds a mystical importance
in possession.

But when does a man become entitled to this absolute protection?
On the principle of Kant, it is not enough that he has the
custody of a thing. A protection based on the sacredness of man's
personality requires that the object should have been brought
within the sphere of that personality, that the free will should
have unrestrainedly set itself into that object. There must be
then an intent to appropriate it, that is, to make it part of
one's self, or one's own.

Here the prevailing view of the Roman law comes in to fortify
principle with precedent. We are told that, of the many who might
have the actual charge or custody of a thing, the Roman law
recognized as possessor only the owner, or one holding as owner
and on his way to become one by lapse of time. In later days it
made a few exceptions on practical grounds. But beyond the
pledgee and the sequester (a receiver appointed by the court)
these exceptions are unimportant and disputed. /2/ Some of the
Roman jurists state in terms that depositaries and borrowers have
not possession of the things intrusted to them. /3/ Whether the
German interpretation of the sources goes too far or not, it must
be taken account of in the examination of German theories.

[210] Philosophy by denying possession to bailees in general
cunningly adjusted itself to the Roman law, and thus put itself
in a position to claim the authority of that law for the theory
of which the mode of dealing with bailees was merely a corollary.
Hence I say that it is important to show that a far more
developed, more rational, and mightier body of law than the
Roman, gives no sanction to either premise or conclusion as held
by Kant and his successors.

In the first place, the English law has always had the good sense
/1/ to allow title to be set up in defence to a possessory
action. In the assize of novel disseisin, which which was a true
possessory action, the defendant could always rely on his title.
/2/ Even when possession is taken or kept in a way which is
punished by the criminal law, as in case of forcible entry and
detainer, proof of title allows the defendant to retain it, and
in many cases has been held an answer to an action of trespass.
So in trespass for taking goods the defendant may set up title in
himself. There might seem to be a trace of the distinction in the
general rule, that the title cannot be tried in trespass quare
clausum. But this is an exception commonly put on the ground that
the judgment cannot change the property, as trespass for chattels
or trover can. /3/ The rule that you cannot go into title in a
possessory action presupposes great difficulty in the proof, the
probatio diabolica of the Canon law, delays in the process, and
importance of possession [211] ad interim,--all of which mark a
stage of society which has long been passed. In ninety-nine cases
out of a hundred, it is about as easy and cheap to prove at least
a prima facie title as it is to prove possession.

In the next place, and this was the importance of the last
Lecture to this subject, the common law has always given the
possessory remedies to all bailees without exception. The right
to these remedies extends not only to pledgees, lessees, and
those having a lien, who exclude their bailor, but to simple
bailees, as they have been called, who have no interest in the
chattels, no right of detention as against the owner, and neither
give nor receive a reward. /1/

Modern German statutes have followed in the same path so far as
to give the possessory remedies to tenants and some others. Bruns
says, as the spirit of the Kantian theory required him to say,
that this is a sacrifice of principle to convenience. /2/ But I
cannot see what is left of a principle which avows itself
inconsistent with convenience and the actual course of
legislation. The first call of a theory of law is that it should
fit the facts. It must explain the observed course of
legislation. And as it is pretty certain that men will make laws
which seem to them convenient without troubling themselves very
much what principles are encountered by their legislation, a
principle which defies convenience is likely to wait some time
before it finds itself permanently realized.

It remains, then, to seek for some ground for the protection of
possession outside the Bill of Rights or the Declaration of
Independence, which shall be consistent with the larger scope
given to the conception in modern law.

[212] The courts have said but little on the subject. It was laid
down in one case that it was an extension of the protection which
the law throws around the person, and on that ground held that
trespass quare clausum did not pass to an assignee in bankruptcy.
/1/ So it has been said, that to deny a bankrupt trover against
strangers for goods coming to his possession after his bankruptcy
would be "an invitation to all the world to scramble for the
possession of them"; and reference was made to "grounds of policy
and convenience." /2/ I may also refer to the cases of capture,
some of which will be cited again. In the Greenland
whale-fishery, by the English custom, if the first striker lost
his hold on the fish, and it was then killed by another, the
first had no claim; but he had the whole if he kept fast to the
whale until it was struck by the other, although it then broke
from the first harpoon. By the custom in the Gallipagos, on the
other hand, the first striker had half the whale, although
control of the line was lost. /3/ Each of these customs has been
sustained and acted on by the English courts, and Judge Lowell
has decided in accordance with still a third, which gives the
whale to the vessel whose iron first remains in it, provided
claim be made before cutting in. /4/ The ground as put by Lord
Mansfield is simply that, were it not for such customs, there
must be a sort of warfare perpetually subsisting between the
adventurers. /5/ If courts adopt different rules on similar
facts, according to the point at which men will fight in the
[213] several cases, it tends, so far as it goes, to shake an a
priori theory of the matter.

Those who see in the history of law the formal expression of the
development of society will be apt to think that the proximate
ground of law must be empirical, even when that ground is the
fact that a certain ideal or theory of government is generally
entertained. Law, being a practical thing, must found itself on
actual forces. It is quite enough, therefore, for the law, that
man, by an instinct which he shares with the domestic dog, and of
which the seal gives a most striking example, will not allow
himself to be dispossessed, either by force or fraud, of what he
holds, without trying to get it back again. /1/ Philosophy may
find a hundred reasons to justify the instinct, but it would be
totally immaterial if it should condemn it and bid us surrender
without a murmur. As long as the instinct remains, it will be
more comfortable for the law to satisfy it in an orderly manner,
than to leave people to themselves. If it should do otherwise, it
would become a matter for pedagogues, wholly devoid of reality.

I think we are now in a position to begin the analysis of
possession. It will be instructive to say a word in the first
place upon a preliminary question which has been debated with
much zeal in Germany. Is possession a fact or a right? This
question must be taken to mean, by possession and right, what the
law means by those words, and not something else which
philosophers or moralists may mean by them; for as lawyers we
have nothing to do with either, except in a legal sense. If this
had always been borne steadily in mind, the question would hardly
have been asked.

[214] A legal right is nothing but a permission to exercise
certain natural powers, and upon certain conditions to obtain
protection, restitution, or compensation by the aid of the public
force. Just so far as the aid of the public force is given a man,
he has a legal right, and this right is the same whether his
claim is founded in righteousness or iniquity. Just so far as
possession is protected, it is as much a source of legal rights
as ownership is when it secures the same protection.

Every right is a consequence attached by the law to one or more
facts which the law defines, and wherever the law gives any one
special rights not shared by the body of the people, it does so
on the ground that certain special facts, not true of the rest of
the world, are true of him. When a group of facts thus singled
out by the law exists in the case of a given person, he is said
to be entitled to the corresponding rights; meaning, thereby,
that the law helps him to constrain his neighbors, or some of
them, in a way in which it would not, if all the facts in
question were not true of him. Hence, any word which denotes such
a group of facts connotes the rights attached to it by way of
legal consequences, and any word which denotes the rights
attached to a group of facts connotes the group of facts in like
manner.

The word "possession" denotes such a group of facts. Hence, when
we say of a man that he has possession, we affirm directly that
all the facts of a certain group are true of him, and we convey
indirectly or by implication that the law will give him the
advantage of the situation. Contract, or property, or any other
substantive notion of the law, may be analyzed in the same way,
and should be treated in the same order. The only difference is,
that, [215] while possession denotes the facts and connotes the
consequence, property always, and contract with more uncertainty
and oscillation, denote the consequence and connote the facts.
When we say that a man owns a thing, we affirm directly that he
has the benefit of the consequences attached to a certain group
of facts, and, by implication, that the facts are true of him.
The important thing to grasp is, that each of these legal
compounds, possession, property, and contract, is to be analyzed
into fact and right, antecedent and consequent, in like manner as
every other. It is wholly immaterial that one element is accented
by one word, and the other by the other two. We are not studying
etymology, but law. There are always two things to be asked:
first, what are the facts which make up the group in question;
and then, what are the consequences attached by the law to that
group. The former generally offers the only difficulties.

Hence, it is almost tautologous to say that the protection which
the law attaches by way of consequence to possession, is as truly
a right in a legal sense as those consequences which are attached
to adverse holding for the period of prescription, or to a
promise for value or under seal. If the statement is aided by
dramatic reinforcement, I may add that possessory rights pass by
descent or devise, as well as by conveyance, /1/ and that they
are taxed as property in some of the States. /2/

We are now ready to analyze possession as understood by the
common law. In order to discover the facts which constitute it,
it will be found best to study them at the moment when possession
is first gained. For then they must [216] all be present in the
same way that both consideration and promise must be present at
the moment of making a contract. But when we turn to the
continuance of possessory rights, or, as is commonly said, the
continuance of possession, it will be agreed by all schools that
less than all the facts required to call those rights into being
need continue presently true in order to keep them alive.

To gain possession, then, a man must stand in a certain physical
relation to the object and to the rest of the world, and must
have a certain intent. These relations and this intent are the
facts of which we are in search.

The physical relation to others is simply a relation of
manifested power coextensive with the intent, and will need to
have but little said about it when the nature of the intent is
settled. When I come to the latter, I shall not attempt a similar
analysis to that which has been pursued with regard to intent as
an element of liability. For the principles developed as to
intent in that connection have no relation to the present
subject, and any such analysis so far as it did not fail would be
little more than a discussion of evidence. The intent inquired
into here must be overtly manifested, perhaps, but all theories
of the grounds on which possession is protected would seem to
agree in leading to the requirement that it should be actual,
subject, of course, to the necessary limits of legal
investigation.

But, besides our power and intent as towards our fellow-men,
there must be a certain degree of power over the object. If there
were only one other man in the world, and he was safe under lock
and key in jail, the person having the key would not possess the
swallows that flew over the prison. This element is illustrated
by cases of capture, [217] although no doubt the point at which
the line is drawn is affected by consideration of the degree of
power obtained as against other people, as well as by that which
has been gained over the object. The Roman and the common law
agree that, in general, fresh pursuit of wild animals does not
give the pursuer the rights of possession. Until escape has been
made impossible by some means, another may step in and kill or
catch and carry off the game if he can. Thus it has been held
that an action does not lie against a person for killing and
taking a fox which had been pursued by another, and was then
actually in the view of the person who had originally found,
started, and chased it. /1/ The Court of Queen's Bench even went
so far as to decide, notwithstanding a verdict the other way,
that when fish were nearly surrounded by a seine, with an opening
of seven fathoms between the ends, at which point boats were
stationed to frighten them from escaping, they were not reduced
to possession as against a stranger who rowed in through the
opening and helped himself. /2/ But the difference between the
power over the object which is sufficient for possession, and
that which is not, is clearly one of degree only, and the line
may be drawn at different places at different times on grounds
just referred to. Thus we are told that the legislature of New
York enacted, in 1844, that any one who started and pursued deer
in certain counties of that State should be deemed in possession
of the game so long as he continued in fresh pursuit of it, /3/
and to that extent modified the New York decisions just cited.
So, while Justinian decided that a wild beast so [218] badly
wounded that it might easily be taken must be actually taken
before it belongs to the captors, /1/ Judge Lowell, with equal
reason, has upheld the contrary custom of the American whalemen
in the Arctic Ocean, mentioned above, which gives a whale to the
vessel whose iron first remains in it, provided claim be made
before cutting in. /2/

We may pass from the physical relation to the object with these
few examples, because it cannot often come into consideration
except in the case of living and wild things. And so we come to
the intent, which is the really troublesome matter. It is just
here that we find the German jurists unsatisfactory, for reasons
which I have already explained. The best known theories have been
framed as theories of the German interpretation of the Roman law,
under the influence of some form of Kantian or post-Kantian
philosophy. The type of Roman possession, according to German
opinion, was that of an owner, or of one on his way to become
owner. Following this out, it was said by Savigny, the only
writer on the subject with whom English readers are generally
acquainted, that the animus domini, or intent to deal with the
thing as owner, is in general necessary to turn a mere physical
detention into juridical possession. /3/ We need not stop to
inquire whether this modern form or the [Greek characters]
(animus dominantis, animus dominandi) of Theophilus /4/ and the
Greek sources is more exact; for either excludes, as the
civilians and canonists do, and as the [219] German theories
must, most bailees and termors from the list of possessors. /1/

The effect of this exclusion as interpreted by the Kantian
philosophy of law, has been to lead the German lawyers to
consider the intent necessary to possession as primarily
self-regarding. Their philosophy teaches them that a man's
physical power over an object is protected because he has the
will to make it his, and it has thus become a part of his very
self, the external manifestation of his freedom. /2/ The will of
the possessor being thus conceived as self-regarding, the intent
with which he must hold is pretty clear: he must hold for his own
benefit. Furthermore, the self-regarding intent must go to the
height of an intent to appropriate; for otherwise, it seems to be
implied, the object would not truly be brought under the
personality of the possessor.

The grounds for rejecting the criteria of the Roman law have been
shown above. Let us begin afresh. Legal duties are logically
antecedent to legal rights. What may be their relation to moral
rights if there are any, and whether moral rights are not in like
manner logically the offspring of moral duties, are questions
which do not concern us here. These are for the philosopher, who
approaches the law from without as part of a larger series of
human manifestations. The business of the jurist is to make known
the content of the law; that is, to work upon it from within, or
logically, arranging and distributing it, in order, from its
stemmum genus to its infima species, so far as practicable. Legal
duties then come before legal [220] rights. To put it more
broadly, and avoid the word duty, which is open to objection, the
direct working of the law is to limit freedom of action or choice
on the part of a greater or less number of persons in certain
specified ways; while the power of removing or enforcing this
limitation which is generally confided to certain other private
persons, or, in other words, a right corresponding to the burden,
is not a necessary or universal correlative. Again, a large part
of the advantages enjoyed by one who has a right are not created
by the law. The law does not enable me to use or abuse this book
which lies before me. That is a physical power which I have
without the aid of the law. What the law does is simply to
prevent other men to a greater or less extent from interfering
with my use or abuse. And this analysis and example apply to the
case of possession, as well as to ownership.

Such being the direct working of the law in the case of
possession, one would think that the animus or intent most nearly
parallel to its movement would be the intent of which we are in
search. If what the law does is to exclude others from
interfering with the object, it would seem that the intent which
the law should require is an intent to exclude others. I believe
that such an intent is all that the common law deems needful, and
that on principle no more should be required.

It may be asked whether this is not simply the animus domini
looked at from the other side. If it were, it would nevertheless
be better to look at the front of the shield than at the reverse.
But it is not the same if we give to the animus domini the
meaning which the Germans give it, and which denies possession to
bailees in general. The intent to appropriate or deal with a
thing as owner can [221] hardly exist without an intent to
exclude others, and something more; but the latter may very well
be where there is no intent to hold as owner. A tenant for years
intends to exclude all persons, including the owner, until the
end of his term; yet he has not the animus domini in the sense
explained. Still less has a bailee with a lien, who does not even
mean to use, but only to detain the thing for payment. But,
further, the common law protects a bailee against strangers, when
it would not protect him against the owner, as in the case of a
deposit or other bailment terminable at pleasure; and we may
therefore say that the intent even to exclude need not be so
extensive as would be implied in the animus domini. If a bailee
intends to exclude strangers to the title, it is enough for
possession under our law, although he is perfectly ready to give
the thing up to its owner at any moment; while it is of the
essence of the German view that the intent must not be relative,
but an absolute, self-regarding intent to take the benefit of the
thing. Again, if the motives or wishes, and even the intentions,
most present to the mind of a possessor, were all self-regarding,
it would not follow that the intent toward others was not
the important thing in the analysis of the law. But, as we
have seen, a depositary is a true possessor under the common-law
theory, although his intent is not self-regarding, and he holds
solely for the benefit of the owner.

There is a class of cases besides those of bailees and tenants,
which will probably, although not necessarily, be decided one way
or the other, as we adopt the test of an intent to exclude, or of
the animus domini. Bridges v. Hawkesworth /1/ will serve as a
starting-point. There, [222] a pocket-book was dropped on the
floor of a shop by a customer, and picked up by another customer
before the shopkeeper knew of it. Common-law judges and civilians
would agree that the finder got possession first, and so could
keep it as against the shopkeeper. For the shopkeeper, not
knowing of the thing, could not have the intent to appropriate
it, and, having invited the public to his shop, he could not have
the intent to exclude them from it. But suppose the pocket-book
had been dropped in a private room, how should the case be
decided? There can be no animus domini unless the thing is known
of; but an intent to exclude others from it may be contained in
the larger intent to exclude others from the place where it is,
without any knowledge of the object's existence.

In McAvoy v. Medina, /1/ a pocket-book had been left upon a
barber's table, and it was held that the barber had a better
right than the finder. The opinion is rather obscure. It takes a
distinction between things voluntarily placed on a table and
things dropped on the floor, and may possibly go on the ground
that, when the owner leaves a thing in that way, there is an
implied request to the shopkeeper to guard it, which will give
him a better right than one who actually finds it before him.
This is rather strained, however, and the court perhaps thought
that the barber had possession as soon as the customer left the
shop. A little later, in a suit for a reward offered to the
finder of a pocket-book, brought by one who discovered it where
the owner had left it, on a desk for the use of customers in a
bank outside the teller's counter, the same court said that this
was not the finding of a lost article, and that "the occupants of
the banking house, and not [223] the plaintiff, were the proper
depositaries of an article so left." /1/ This language might
seem to imply that the plaintiff was not the person who got
possession first after the defendant, and that, although the
floor of a shop may be likened to a street, the public are to be
deemed excluded from the shop's desks, counters, and tables
except for the specific use permitted. Perhaps, however, the case
only decides that the pocket-book was not lost within the
condition of the offer.

I should not have thought it safe to draw any conclusion from
wreck cases in England, which are mixed up with questions of
prescription and other rights. But the precise point seems to
have been adjudicated here. For it has been held that, if a stick
of timber comes ashore on a man's land, he thereby acquires a
"right of possession" as against an actual finder who enters for
the purpose of removing it. /2/ A right of possession is said to
be enough for trespass; but the court seems to have meant
possession by the phrase, inasmuch as Chief Justice Shaw states
the question to be which of the parties had "the preferable
claim, by mere naked possession, without other title," and as
there does not seem to have been any right of possession in the
case unless there was actual possession.

In a criminal case, the property in iron taken from the bottom of
a canal by a stranger was held well laid in the canal company,
although it does not appear that the company knew of it, or had
any lien upon it. /3/

[224] The only intent concerning the thing discoverable in such
instances is the general intent which the occupant of land has to
exclude the public from the land, and thus, as a consequence, to
exclude them from what is upon it.

The Roman lawyers would probably have decided all these cases
differently, although they cannot be supposed to have worked out
the refined theories which have been built upon their remains.
/1/

I may here return to the case of goods in a chest delivered under
lock and key, or in a bale, and the like. It is a rule of the
criminal law, that, if a bailee of such a chest or bale
wrongfully sells the entire chest or bale, he does not commit
larceny, but if he breaks bulk he does, because in the former
case he does not, and in the latter he does, commit a trespass.
/2/ The reason sometimes offered is, that, by breaking bulk, the
bailee determines the bailment, and that the goods at once revest
in the possession of the bailor. This is, perhaps, an
unnecessary, as well as inadequate fiction. /3/ The rule comes
from the Year Books, and the theory of the Year Books was, that,
although the chest was delivered to the bailee, the goods inside
of it were not, and this theory was applied to civil as well as
criminal cases. The bailor has the power and intent to exclude
the bailee from the goods, and therefore may be said to be in
possession of them as against the bailee. /4/

[225] On the other hand, a case in Rhode Island /1/ is against
the view here taken. A man bought a safe, and then, wishing to
sell it again, sent it to the defendant, and gave him leave to
keep his books in it until sold. The defendant found some
bank-notes stuck in a crevice of the safe, which coming to the
plaintiff's ears he demanded the safe and the money. The
defendant sent back the safe, but refused to give up the money,
and the court sustained him in his refusal. I venture to think
this decision wrong. Nor would my opinion be changed by assuming,
what the report does not make perfectly clear, that the defendant
received the safe as bailee, and not as servant or agent, and
that his permission to use the safe was general. The argument of
the court goes on the plaintiff's not being a finder. The
question is whether he need be. It is hard to believe that, if
the defendant had stolen the bills from the safe while it was in
the owner's hands, the property could not have been laid in the
safe-owner, /2/ or that the latter could not have maintained
trover for them if converted under those circumstances. Sir James
Stephen seems to have drawn a similar conclusion from Cartwright
v. Green and Merry v. Green; /3/ but I believe that no warrant
for it can be found in the cases, and still less for the reason
suggested.

It will be understood, however, that Durfee v. Jones is perfectly
consistent with the view here maintained of the [226] general
nature of the necessary intent, and that it only touches the
subordinate question, whether the intent to exclude must be
directed to the specific thing, or may be even unconsciously
included in a larger intent, as I am inclined to believe.

Thus far, nothing has been said with regard to the custody of
servants. It is a well-known doctrine of the criminal law, that a
servant who criminally converts property of his master intrusted
to him and in his custody as servant, is guilty of theft, because
he is deemed to have taken the property from his master's
possession. This is equivalent to saying that a servant, having
the custody of his master's property as servant, has not
possession of that property, and it is so stated in the Year
Books. /1/

The anomalous distinction according to which, if the servant
receives the thing from another person for his master, the
servant has the possession, and so cannot commit theft, /2/ is
made more rational by the old cases. For the distinction taken in
them is, that, while the servant is in the house or with his
master, the latter retains possession, but if he delivers his
horse to his servant to ride to market, or gives him a bag to
carry to London, then the thing is out of the master's possession
and in the servant's. /3/ In this more intelligible form, the
rule would not now prevail. But one half of it, that a guest at a
tavern has not possession of the plate with which he is served,
is no doubt still law, [227] for guests in general are likened to
servants in their legal position. /1/

There are few English decisions, outside the criminal on the
question whether a servant has possession. But the Year Books do
not suggest any difference between civil and criminal cases, and
there is an almost tradition of courts and approved writers that
he has not, in any case. A master has maintained trespass against
a servant for converting cloth which he was employed to sell, /2/
and the American cases go the full length of the old doctrine. It
has often been remarked that a servant must be distinguished from
a bailee.

But it may be asked how the denial of possession to servants can
be made to agree with the test proposed, and it will be said with
truth that the servant has as much the intent to exclude the
world at large as a borrower. The law of servants is
unquestionably at variance with that test; and there can be no
doubt that those who have built their theories upon the Roman law
have been led by this fact, coupled with the Roman doctrine as to
bailees in general, to seek the formula of reconciliation where
they have. But, in truth, the exception with regard to servants
stands on purely historical grounds. A servant is denied
possession, not from any peculiarity of intent with regard to the
things in his custody, either towards his master or other people,
by which he is distinguished [228] from a depositary, but simply
as one of the incidents of his status. It is familiar that the
status of a servant maintains many marks of the time when he was
a slave. The liability of the master for his torts is one
instance. The present is another. A slave's possession was his
owner's possession on the practical ground of the owner's power
over him, /1/ and from the fact that the slave had no standing
before the law. The notion that his personality was merged in
that of his family head survived the era of emancipation.

I have shown in the first Lecture /2/ that agency arose out of
the earlier relation in the Roman law, through the extension pro
hac vice to a freeman of conceptions derived from that source.
The same is true, I think, of our own law, the later development
of which seems to have been largely under Roman influence. As
late as Blackstone, agents appear under the general head of
servants, and the first precedents cited for the peculiar law of
agents were cases of master and servant. Blackstone's language is
worth quoting: "There is yet a fourth species of servants, if
they may be so called, being rather in a superior, a ministerial
capacity; such as stewards, factors, and bailiffs: whom, however,
the law considers as servants pro tempore, with regard to such of
their acts as affect their master's or employer's property." /3/

[229] It is very true that in modern times many of the effects of
either relation--master and servant or principal and agent--may
be accounted for as the result of acts done by the master
himself. If a man tells another to make a contract in his name,
or commands him to commit a tort, no special conception is needed
to explain why he is held; although even in such cases, where the
intermediate party was a freeman, the conclusion was not reached
until the law had become somewhat mature. But, if the title
Agency deserves to stand in the law at all, it must be because
some peculiar consequences are attached to the fact of the
relation. If the mere power to bind a principal to an authorized
contract were all, we might as well have a chapter on ink and
paper as on agents. But it is not all. Even in the domain of
contract, we find the striking doctrine that an undisclosed
principal has the rights as well as the obligations of a known
contractor,--that he can be sued, and, more remarkable, can sue
on his agent's contract. The first precedent cited for the
proposition that a promise to an agent may be laid as a promise
to the principal, is a case of master and servant. /1/

As my present object is only to show the meaning of the doctrine
of identification in its bearing upon the theory of possession,
it would be out of place to consider at any length how far that
doctrine must be invoked to explain the liability of principals
for their agents' torts, or whether a more reasonable rule
governs other cases than that applied where the actor has a
tolerably defined status as a [230] servant. I allow myself a few
words, because I shall not be able to return to the subject.

If the liability of a master for the torts of his servant had
hitherto been recognized by the courts as the decaying remnant of
an obsolete institution, it would not be surprising to find it
confined to the cases settled by ancient precedent. But such has
not been the fact. It has been extended to new relations by
analogy, /1/ It exists where the principal does not stand in the
relation of paterfamilias to the actual wrong-doer. /2/ A man may
be held for another where the relation was of such a transitory
nature as to exclude the conception of status, as for the
negligence of another person's servant momentarily acting for the
defendant, or of a neighbor helping him as a volunteer; /3/ and,
so far as known, no principal has ever escaped on the ground of
the dignity of his agent's employment. /4/ The courts habitually
speak as if the same rules applied to brokers and other agents,
as to servants properly so called. /5/ Indeed, it [231] has been
laid down in terms, that the liability of employers is not
confined to the case of servants, /1/ although the usual cases
are, of course, those of menial servants, and the like, who could
not pay a large verdict.

On the other hand, if the peculiar doctrines of agency are
anomalous, and form, as I believe, the vanishing point of the
servile status, it may well happen that common sense will refuse
to carry them out to their furthest applications. Such conflicts
between tradition and the instinct of justice we may see upon the
question of identifying a principal who knows the truth with an
agent who makes a false representation, in order to make out a
fraud, as in Cornfoot v. Fowke, /2/ or upon that as to the
liability of a principal for the frauds of his agent discussed in
many English cases. /3/ But, so long as the fiction which makes
the root of a master's liability is left alive, it is as hopeless
to reconcile the differences by logic as to square the circle.

In an article in the American Law Review /4/ I referred [232] to
an expression of Godefroi with regard to agents; eadem est
persona domini et procuratoris. /1/ This notion of a fictitious
unity of person has been pronounced a darkening of counsel in a
recent useful work. /2/ But it receives the sanction of Sir Henry
Maine, /3/ and I believe that it must stand as expressing an
important aspect of the law, if, as I have tried to show, there
is no adequate and complete explanation of the modern law, except
by the survival in practice of rules which lost their true
meaning when the objects of them ceased to be slaves. There is no
trouble in understanding what is meant by saying that a slave has
no legal standing, but is absorbed in the family which his master
represents before the law. The meaning seems equally clear when
we say that a free servant, in his relations as such, is in many
respects likened by the law to a slave (not, of course, to his
own detriment as a freeman). The next step is simply that others
not servants in a general sense may be treated as if servants in
a particular connection. This is the progress of ideas as shown
us by history; and this is what is meant by saying that the
characteristic feature which justifies agency as a title of the
law is the absorption pro hac vice of the agent's legal
individuality in that of his principal.

If this were carried out logically, it would follow that an agent
constituted to hold possession in his principal's name would not
be regarded as having the legal possession, or as entitled to
trespass. But, after what has been said, no opinion can be
expressed whether the law would go so far, unless it is shown by
precedent. /4/ The nature of the case [233] will be observed. It
is that of an agent constituted for the very point and purpose of
possession. A bailee may be an agent for some other purpose. A
free servant may be made a bailee. But the bailee holds in his
own as we say, following the Roman idiom, and the servant or
agent holding as such does not.

It would hardly be worth while, if space allowed, to search the
books on this subject, because of the great confusion of language
to be found in them. It has been said, for instance, in this
connection, that a carrier is a servant; /1/ while nothing can be
clearer than that, while goods are in custody, they are in his
possession. /2/ So where goods remain in the custody of a vendor,
appropriation to the contract and acceptance have been confounded
with delivery. /3/ Our law has adopted the Roman doctrine, /4/
that there may be a delivery, that is, a change of possession, by
a change in the character in which the vendor holds, but has not
always imitated the caution of the civilians with regard to what
amounts to such a change. /5/ Bailees are constantly spoken of as
if they were agents to possess,--a confusion made [234] easier by
the fact that they generally are agents for other purposes. Those
cases which attribute possession to a transferee of goods in the
hands of a middleman, /1/ without distinguishing whether the
middleman holds in his own name or the buyer's, are generally
right in the result, no doubt, but have added to the confusion of
thought upon the subject.

German writers are a little apt to value a theory of possession
somewhat in proportion to the breadth of the distinction which it
draws between juridical possession and actual detention; but,
from the point of view taken here, it will be seen that the
grounds for denying possession and the possessory remedies to
servants and agents holding as such--if, indeed, the latter have
not those remedies--are merely historical, and that the general
theory can only take account of the denial as an anomaly. It will
also be perceived that the ground on which servants and
depositaries have been often likened to each other, namely, that
they both hold for the benefit of another and not for themselves,
is wholly without influence on our law, which has always treated
depositaries as having possession; and is not the true
explanation of the Roman doctrine, which did not decide either
case upon that ground, and which decided each for reasons
different from those on which it decided the other.

It will now be easy to deal with the question of power as to
third persons. This is naturally a power coextensive with the
intent. But we must bear in mind that the law deals only or
mainly with manifested facts; and hence, when we speak of a power
to exclude others, we mean no more than a power which so appears
in its manifestation. [235] A ruffian may be within equal reach
and sight when a child picks up a pocket-book; but if he does
nothing, the child has manifested the needful power as well as if
it had been backed by a hundred policemen. Thus narrowed, it
might be suggested that the manifestation of is only important as
a manifestation of intent. But the two things are distinct, and
the former becomes decisive when there are two contemporaneous
and conflicting intents. Thus, where two parties, neither having
title, claimed a crop of corn adversely to each other, and
cultivated it alternately, and the plaintiff gathered and threw
it in small piles in the same field, where it lay for a week, and
then each party simultaneously began to carry it away, it was
held the plaintiff had not gained possession. /1/ But the first
interference of the defendant had been after the gathering into
piles, the plaintiff would probably have recovered. /2/ So where
trustees possessed of a schoolroom put in a schoolmaster, and he
was afterwards dismissed, but the next day (June 30) re-entered
by force; on the fourth of July he was required by notice to
depart, and was not ejected until the eleventh; it was considered
that the schoolmaster never got possession as against the
trustees. /3/

We are led, in this connection, to the subject of the continuance
of the rights acquired by gaining possession. To gain possession,
it has been seen, there must be certain physical relations, as
explained, and a certain intent. It remains to be inquired, how
far these facts must continue [236] to be presently true of a
person in order that he may keep the rights which follow from
their presence. The prevailing view is that of Savigny. He thinks
that there must be always the same animus as at the moment of
acquisition, and a constant power to reproduce at will the
original physical relations to the object. Every one agrees that
it is not necessary to have always a present power over the
thing, otherwise one could only possess what was under his hand.
But it is a question whether we cannot dispense with even more.
The facts which constitute possession are in their nature capable
of continuing presently true for a lifetime. Hence there has
arisen an ambiguity of language which has led to much confusion
of thought. We use the word "possession," indifferently, to
signify the presence of all the facts needful to gain it, and
also the condition of him who, although some of them no longer
exist, is still protected as if they did. Consequently it has
been only too easy to treat the cessation of the facts as the
loss of the right, as some German writers very nearly do. /1/

But it no more follows, from the single circumstance that certain
facts must concur in order to create the rights incident to
possession, that they must continue in order to keep those rights
alive, than it does, from the necessity of a consideration and a
promise to create a right ex contractu, that the consideration
and promise must continue moving between the parties until the
moment of performance. When certain facts have once been made
manifest which confer a right, there is no general ground on
which the law need hold the right at an end except the
manifestation of some fact inconsistent with its continuance,
[237] the reasons for conferring the particular right have great
weight in determining what facts shall be to be so. Cessation of
the original physical relations to the object might be treated as
such a fact; but it never has been, unless in times of more
ungoverned violence than the present. On the same principle, it
is only a question of tradition or policy whether a cessation of
the power to reproduce the original physical relations shall
affect the continuance of the rights. It does not stand on the
same ground as a new possession adversely taken by another. We
have adopted the Roman law as to animals ferae naturae, but the
general tendency of our law is to favor appropriation. It abhors
the absence of proprietary or possessory rights as a kind of
vacuum. Accordingly, it has been expressly decided, where a man
found logs afloat and moored them, but they again broke loose and
floated away, and were found by another, that the first finder
retained the rights which sprung from his having taken
possession, and that he could maintain trover against the second
finder, who refused to give them up. /1/

Suppose that a finder of a purse of gold has left it in his
country-house, which is lonely and slightly barred, and he is a
hundred miles away, in prison. The only person within twenty
miles is a thoroughly equipped burglar at his front door, who has
seen the purse through a window, and who intends forthwith to
enter and take it. The finder's power to reproduce his former
physical relation to the gold is rather limited, yet I believe
that no one would say that his possession was at an end until the
burglar, by an overt [238] act, had manifested his power and
intent to exclude others from the purse. The reason for this is
the same which has been put with regard to the power to exclude
at the moment of gaining possession. The law deals, for the most
part, with overt acts and facts which can be known by the senses.
So long as the burglar has not taken the purse, he has not
manifested his intent; and until he breaks through the barrier
which measures the present possessor's power of excluding him, he
has not manifested his power. It may be observed further, that,
according to the tests adopted in this Lecture, the owner of the
house has a present possession in the strictest sense, because,
although he has not the power which Savigny says is necessary, he
has the present intent and power to exclude others.

It is conceivable that the common law should go so far as to deal
with possession in the same way as a title, and should hold that,
when it has once been acquired, rights are acquired which
continue to prevail against all the world but one, until
something has happened sufficient to divest ownership.

The possession of rights, as it is called, has been a
fighting-ground for centuries on the Continent. It is not
uncommon for German writers to go so far as to maintain that
there may be a true possession of obligations; this seeming to
accord with a general view that possession and right are in
theory coextensive terms; that the mastery of the will over an
external object in general (be that object a thing or another
will), when in accord with the general will, and consequently
lawful, is called right, when merely de facto is possession. /1/
Bearing in mind what was [239] said on the question whether
possession was a fact or right, it will be seen that such an
antithesis between possession and right cannot be admitted as a
legal distinction. The facts constituting possession generate
rights as truly as do the facts which constitute ownership,
although the rights a mere possessor are less extensive than
those of an owner.

Conversely, rights spring from certain facts supposed to be true
of the person entitled to such rights. Where these facts are of
such a nature that they can be made successively true of
different persons, as in the case of the occupation of land, the
corresponding rights may be successively enjoyed. But when the
facts are past and gone, such as the giving of a consideration
and the receiving of a promise, there can be no claim to the
resulting rights set up by any one except the party of whom the
facts were originally true--in the case supposed, the original
contractee,--because no one but the original contractee can fill
the situation from which they spring.

It will probably be granted by English readers, that one of the
essential constituent facts consists in a certain relation to a
material object. But this object may be a slave, as well as a
horse; /1/ and conceptions originated in this way may be extended
by a survival to free services. It is noticeable that even Bruns,
in the application of his theory, does not seem to go beyond
cases of status and those where, in common language, land is
bound for the services in question, as it is for rent. Free
services being [240] so far treated like servile, even by our
law, that the master has a right of property in them against all
the world, it is only a question of degree where the line shall
be drawn. It would be possible to hold that, as one might be in
possession of a slave without title, so one might have all the
rights of an owner in free services rendered without contract.
Perhaps there is something of that sort to be seen when a parent
recovers for the seduction of a daughter over twenty-one,
although there is no actual contract of service. /1/ So,
throughout the whole course of the canon law and in the early law
of England, rents were regarded as so far a part of the realty as
to be capable of possession and disseisin, and they could be
recovered like land by all assize. /2/

But the most important case of the so-called possession of rights
in our law, as in the Roman, occurs with regard to easements. An
easement is capable of possession in a certain sense. A man may
use land in a certain way, with the intent to exclude all others
from using it in any way inconsistent with his own use, but no
further. If this be true possession, however, it is a limited
possession of land, not of a right, as others have shown. But
where an easement has been actually created, whether by deed or
prescription, although it is undoubtedly true that any possessor
of the dominant estate would be protected in its enjoyment, it
has not been so protected in the past on the ground that the
easement was in itself an object of possession, but by the
survival of precedents explained in a later [241] Lecture. Hence,
to test the existence of a mere possession of this sort which the
law will protect, we will take the case of a way used de facto
for four years, but in which no easement has yet been acquired,
and ask whether the possessor of the quasi dominant tenement
would be protected in his use as against third persons. It is
conceivable that he should be, but I believe that he would not.
/2/

The chief objection to the doctrine seems to be, that there is
almost a contradiction between the assertions that one man has a
general power and intent to exclude the world from dealing with
the land, and that another has the power to use it in a
particular way, and to exclude the from interfering with that.
The reconciliation of the two needs somewhat artificial
reasoning. However, it should be borne in mind that the question
in every case is not what was the actual power of the parties
concerned, but what was their manifested power. If the latter
stood thus balanced, the law might recognize a kind of split
possession. But if it does not recognize it until a right is
acquired, then the protection of a disseisor in the use of an
easement must still be explained by a reference to the facts
mentioned in the Lecture referred to.

The consequences attached to possession are substantially those
attached to ownership, subject to the question the continuance of
possessory rights which I have touched upon above. Even a
wrongful possessor of a [242] chattel may have full damages for
its conversion by a stranger to the title, or a return of the
specific thing. /1/

It has been supposed, to be sure, that a "special property" was
necessary in order to maintain replevin /2/ or trover. /3/ But
modern cases establish that possession is sufficient, and an
examination of the sources of our law proves that special
property did not mean anything more. It has been shown that the
procedure for the recovery of chattels lost against one's will,
described by Bracton, like its predecessor on the Continent, was
based upon possession. Yet Bracton, in the very passage in which
he expressly makes that statement, uses a phrase which, but for
the explanation, would seem to import ownership,--"Poterit rem
suam petere." /4/ The writs of later days used the same language,
and when it was objected, as it frequently was, to a suit by a
bailee for a taking of bona et catalla sua, that it should have
been for bona in custodia sua existentia, it was always answered
that those in the Chancery would not frame a writ in that form.
/5/

The substance of the matter was, that goods in a man's possession
were his (sua), within the meaning of the writ. But it was very
natural to attempt a formal reconciliation between that formal
word and the fact by saying that, although the plaintiff had not
the general property in the [243] chattels, yet he had a property
as against strangers, /1/ or a special property. This took place,
and, curiously enough, two of the earliest instances in which I
have found the latter phrase used are cases of a depositary, /2/
and a borrower. /3/ Brooke says that a wrongful taker "has title
against all but the true owner." /4/ In this sense the special
property was better described as a "possessory property," as it
was, in deciding that, in an indictment for larceny, the property
could be laid in the bailee who suffered the trespass. /5/

I have explained the inversion by which a bailee's right of
action against third persons was supposed to stand on his
responsibility over, although in truth it was the foundation of
that responsibility, and arose simply from his possession. The
step was short, from saying that bailees could sue because they
were answerable over, /6/ to saying that they had the property as
against strangers, or a special property, because they were
answerable over, /7/ and that they could sue because they had a
special property and were answerable over. /8/ And thus the
notion that special property meant something more than
possession, and was a requisite to maintaining an action, got
into the law.

The error was made easier by a different use of the phrase in a
different connection. A bailee was in general liable for goods
stolen from his custody, whether he had a lien or not. But the
law was otherwise as to a [244] pledgee, if he had kept the
pledge with his own goods, and the two were stolen together. /1/
This distinction was accounted for, at least in Lord Coke's time,
by saying that the pledge was, in a sense, the pledgee's own,
that he had a special property in it, and thus that the ordinary
relation of bailment did not exist, or that the undertaking was
only to keep as his own goods. /2/ The same expression was used
in discussing the pledgee's right to assign the pledge, /3/ In
this sense the term applied only to pledges, but its significance
in a particular connection was easily carried over into the
others in which it was used, with the result that the special
property which was requisite to maintain the possessory actions
was supposed to mean a qualified interest in the goods.

With regard to the legal consequences of possession, it only
remains to mention that the rules which have been laid down with
regard to chattels also prevail with regard to land. For although
the plaintiff in ejectment must recover on the strength of his
own title as against a defendant in possession, it is now settled
that prior possession is enough if the defendant stands on his
possession alone Possession is of course sufficient for
trespass.5 And although the early remedy by assize was restricted
to those who had a technical seisin, this was for reasons which
do not affect the general theory.

Before closing I must say a word concerning ownership and kindred
conceptions. Following the order of analysis [245] which has been
pursued with regard to possession, the first question must be,
What are the facts to which the rights called ownership are
attached as a legal consequence? The most familiar mode of
gaining ownership is by conveyance from the previous owner. But
that presupposes ownership already existing, and the problem is
to discover what calls it into being.

One fact which has this effect is first possession. The captor of
wild animals, or the taker of fish from the ocean, has not merely
possession, but a title good against all the world. But the most
common mode of getting an original and independent title is by
certain proceedings, in court or out of it, adverse to all the
world. At one extreme of these is the proceeding in rem of the
admiralty, which conclusively disposes of the property in its
power, and, when it sells or condemns it, does not deal with this
or that man's title, but gives a new title paramount to all
previous interests, whatsoever they may be. The other and more
familiar case is prescription, where a public adverse holding for
a certain time has a similar effect. A title by prescription is
not a presumed conveyance from this or owner alone, it
extinguishes all previous and inconsistent claims. The two
coalesce in the ancient fine with proclamations where the
combined effect of the judgment and the lapse of a year and a day
was to bar claims. /1/

So rights analogous to those of ownership may be given by the
legislature to persons of whom some other set of facts is true.
For instance, a patentee, or one to whom the government has
issued a certain instrument, and who in fact has made a
patentable invention.

[246] But what are the rights of ownership? They are
substantially the same as those incident to possession. Within
the limits prescribed by policy, the owner is allowed to exercise
his natural powers over the subject-matter uninterfered with, and
is more or less protected in excluding other people from such
interference. The owner is allowed to exclude all, and is
accountable to no one. The possessor is allowed to exclude all
but one, and is accountable to no one but him. The great body of
questions which have made the subject of property so large and
important are questions of conveyancing, not necessarily or
generally dependent on ownership as distinguished from
possession. They are questions of the effect of not having an
independent and original title, but of coming in under a title
already in existence, or of the modes in which an original title
can be cut up among those who come in under it. These questions
will be dealt with and explained where they belong, in the
Lectures on Successions.

[247]




LECTURE VII. -- CONTRACT.--I. HISTORY.

The doctrine of contract has been so thoroughly remodelled to
meet the needs of modern times, that there is less here than
elsewhere for historical research. It has been so ably discussed
that there is less room here elsewhere for essentially new
analysis. But a short of the growth of modern doctrines, whether
necessary or not, will at least be interesting, while an analysis
of their main characteristics cannot be omitted, and may present
some new features.

It is popularly supposed that the oldest forms of contract known
to our law are covenant and debt, and they are of early date, no
doubt. But there are other contracts still in use which, although
they have in some degree put on modern forms, at least suggest
the question whether they were not of equally early appearance.

One of these, the promissory oath, is no longer the foundation of
any rights in private law. It is used, but as mainly as a
solemnity connected with entering upon a public office. The judge
swears that he will execute justice according to law, the juryman
that he will find his verdict according to law and the evidence,
the newly adopted citizen that he will bear true faith and
allegiance to the government of his choice.

But there is another contract which plays a more important part.
It may, perhaps, sound paradoxical to mention [248] the contract
of suretyship. Suretyship, nowadays, is only an accessory
obligation, which presupposes a principal undertaking, and which,
so far as the nature of the contract goes, is just like any
other. But, as has been pointed out by Laferriere, /1/ and very
likely by earlier writers, the surety of ancient law was the
hostage, and the giving of hostages was by no means confined to
international dealings.

In the old metrical romance of Huon of Bordeaux, Huon, having
killed the son of Charlemagne, is required by the Emperor to
perform various seeming impossibilities as the price of
forgiveness. Huon starts upon the task, leaving twelve of his
knights as hostages. /2/ He returns successful, but at first the
Emperor is made to believe that his orders have been disobeyed.
Thereupon Charlemagne cries out, "I summon hither the pledges for
Huon. I will hang them, and they shall have no ransom." /3/ So,
when Huon is to fight a duel, by way of establishing the truth or
falsehood of a charge against him, each party begins by producing
some of his friends as hostages.

When hostages are given for a duel which is to determine the
truth or falsehood of an accusation, the transaction is very near
to the giving of similar security in the trial of a cause in
court. This was in fact the usual course of the Germanic
procedure. It will be remembered that the earliest appearance of
law was as a substitute for the private feuds between families or
clans. But while a defendant who did not peaceably submit to the
jurisdiction of the court might be put outside the protection of
the law, so that any man might kill him at sight, there was at
first [249] no way of securing the indemnity to which the
plaintiff was entitled unless the defendant chose to give such
security. /1/

English customs which have been preserved to us are somewhat more
advanced, but one of the noticeable features in their procedure
is the giving of security at every step. All lawyers will
remember a trace of this in the fiction of John Doe and Richard
Roe, the plaintiff's pledges to prosecute his action. But a more
significant example is found in the rule repeated in many of the
early laws, that a defendant accused of a wrong must either find
security or go to prison. /2/ This security was the hostage of
earlier days, and later, when the actions for punishment and for
redress were separated from each other, became the bail of the
criminal law. The liability was still conceived in the same way
as when the bail actually put his own body into the power of the
party secured.

One of Charlemagne's additions to the Lex Salica speaks of a
freeman who has committed himself to the power of another by way
of surety. /3/ The very phrase is copied in the English laws of
Henry I. /4/ We have seen what this meant in the story of Huon of
Bordeaux. The Mirror of Justices /5/ says that King Canute used
to judge the mainprisors according as the principals when their
principals not in judgment, but that King Henry I. confined
Canute's rule to mainprisors who were consenting to the fact.

As late as the reign of Edward III., Shard, an English judge,
after stating the law as it still is, that bail are a prisoner's
[250] keepers, and shall be charged if he escapes, observes, that
some say that the bail shall be hanged in his place. /1/ This was
the law in the analogous case of a jailer. /2/ The old notion is
to be traced in the form still given by modern writers for the
undertaking of bail for felony. They are bound "body for body,"
/3/ and modern law-books find it necessary to state that this
does not make them liable to the punishment of the principal
offender if he does not appear, but only to a fine. /4/ The
contract also differed from our modern ideas in the mode of
execution. It was simply a solemn admission of liability in the
presence of the officer authorized to take it. The signature of
the bail was not necessary, /5/ and it was not requisite that the
person bailed should bind himself as a party. /6/

But these peculiarities have been modified or done away with by
statute, and I have dwelt upon the case, not so much as a special
form of contract differing from all others as because the history
of its origin shows one of the first appearances of contract in
our law. It is to be traced to the gradual increase of faith in
the honor of a hostage if the case calling for his surrender
should arrive, and to the consequent relaxation of actual
imprisonment. An illustration may be found in the parallel mode
of dealing with the prisoner himself. His bail, to whom his body
is supposed to be delivered, have a right to seize him at any
time and anywhere, but he is allowed to go at large until [251]
surrendered. It will be noticed that this form of contract, like
debt as dealt with by the Roman law of the Twelve Tables, and for
the same motive, although by a different process, looked to the
body of the contracting party as the satisfaction.

Debt is another and more popular candidate for the honors of
priority. Since the time of Savigny, the first appearance of
contract both in Roman and German law has often been attributed
to the case of a sale by some accident remaining incomplete. The
question does not seem to be of great philosophical significance.
For to explain how mankind first learned to promise, we must go
to metaphysics, and find out how it ever came to frame a future
tense. The nature of the particular promise which was first
enforced in a given system can hardly lead to any truth of
general importance. But the history of the action of debt is
instructive, although in a humbler way. It is necessary to know
something about it in order to understand the enlightened rules
which make up the law of contract at the present time.

In Glanvill's treatise the action of debt is found already to be
one of the well-known remedies. But the law of those days was
still in a somewhat primitive state, and it will easily be
imagined that a form of action which goes back as far as that was
not founded on any very delicate discriminations. It was, as I
shall try to show directly, simply the general form in which any
money claim was collected, except unliquidated claims for damages
by force, for which there was established the equally general
remedy of trespass.

It has been thought that the action was adopted from the then
more civilized procedure of the Roman law. A [252] natural
opinion, seeing that all the early English law-writers adopt
their phraseology and classification from Rome. Still it seems
much more probable that the action is of pure German descent. It
has the features of the primitive procedure which is found upon
the Continent, as described by Laband. /1/

The substance of the plaintiff's claim as set forth in the writ
of debt is that the defendant owes him so much and wrongfully
withholds it. It does not matter, for a claim framed like that,
how the defendant's duty arises. It is not confined to contract.
It is satisfied if there is a duty to pay on any ground. It
states a mere conclusion of law, not the facts upon which that
conclusion is based, and from which the liability arises. The old
German complaint was, in like manner, "A owes me so much."

It was characteristic of the German procedure that the defendant
could meet that complaint by answering, in an equally general
form, that he did not owe the plaintiff. The plaintiff had to do
more than simply allege a debt, if he would prevent the defendant
from escaping in that way. In England, if the plaintiff had not
something to show for his debt, the defendant's denial turned him
out of court; and even if he had, he was liable to be defeated by
the defendant's swearing with some of his friends to back him
that he owed nothing. The chief reason why debt was supplanted
for centuries by a later remedy, assumpsit, was the survival of
this relic of early days.

Finally, in England as in Germany, debt for the detention of
money was the twin brother of the action brought for wrongfully
withholding any other kind of chattel. The gist of the complaint
in either case was the same.

It seems strange that this crude product of the infancy of law
should have any importance for us at the present time. Yet
whenever we trace a leading doctrine of substantive law far
enough back, we are very likely to find some forgotten
circumstance of procedure at its source. Illustrations of this
truth have been given already. The action of debt and the other
actions of contract will furnish others. Debt throws most light
upon the doctrine of consideration.

Our law does not enforce every promise which a man may make.
Promises made as ninety-nine promises out of a hundred are, by
word of mouth or simple writing, are not binding unless there is
a consideration for them. That is, as it is commonly explained,
unless the promisee has either conferred a benefit on the
promisor, or incurred a detriment, as the inducement to the
promise.

It has been thought that this rule was borrowed from Roman law by
the Chancery, and, after undergoing some modification there,
passed into the common law.

But this account of the matter is at least questionable. So far
as the use of words goes, I am not aware that consideration is
distinctly called cause before the reign of Elizabeth; in the
earlier reports it always appears as quid pro quo. Its first
appearance, so far as I know, is in Fleta's account of the action
of debt, /1/ and although I am inclined to believe that Fleta's
statement is not to be trusted, a careful consideration of the
chronological order of the cases in the Year Books will show, I
think, that the doctrine was fully developed in debt before any
mention of it in equity can be found. One of the earliest [254]
references to what a promisor was to have for his undertaking was
in the action of assumpsit. /1/ But the doctrine certainly did
not originate there. The first mention of consideration in
connection with equity which I have seen is in the form of quid
pro quo, /2/ and occurs after the requirement had been thoroughly
established in debt. /3/

The single fact that a consideration was never required for
contracts under seal, unless Fleta is to be trusted against the
great weight of nearly contemporaneous evidence, goes far to show
that the rule cannot have originated on grounds of policy as a
rule of substantive law. And conversely, the coincidence of the
doctrine with a peculiar mode of procedure points very strongly
to the probability that the peculiar requirement and the peculiar
procedure were connected. It will throw light on the question to
put together a few undisputed facts, and to consider what
consequences naturally followed. It will therefore be desirable
to examine the action of debt a little further. But it is only
fair to admit, at the outset, that I offer the explanation which
follows with great hesitation, and, I think, with a full
appreciation of the objections which might be urged.

It was observed a moment ago, that, in order to recover against a
defendant who denied his debt, the plaintiff had to show
something for it; otherwise he was turned over to the limited
jurisdiction of the spiritual tribunals. /4/ This requirement did
not mean evidence in the modern sense. It meant simply that he
must maintain his cause in one of the ways then recognized by
law. These were three, the [255] duel, a writing, and witnesses.
The duel need not be discussed, as it soon ceased to be used in
debt, and has no bearing on what I have to say. Trial by writing
and by witnesses, on the other hand, must both be carefully
studied. It will be convenient to consider the latter first and
to find out what these witnesses were.

One thing we know at the start; they were not witnesses as we
understand the term. They were not produced before a jury for
examination and cross-examination, nor did their testimony
depend for its effect on being believed by the court that heard
it. Nowadays, a case is not decided by the evidence, but by a
verdict, or a finding of facts, followed by a judgment. The oath
of a witness has no effect unless it is believed. But in the time
of Henry II. our trial by jury did not exist. When an oath was
allowed to be sworn it had the same effect, whether it was
believed or not. There was no provision for sifting it by a
second body. In those cases where a trial by witnesses was
possible, if the party called on to go forward could find a
certain number of men who were willing to swear in a certain
form, there was an end of the matter.

Now this seems like a more primitive way of establishing a debt
than the production of the defendant's written acknowledgement,
and it is material to discover its origin.

The cases in which this mode of trial was used appear from the
early books and reports to have been almost wholly confined to
claims arising out of a sale or loan. And the question at once
occurs, whether we are not upon traces of an institution which
was already ancient when Glanvill wrote. For centuries before the
Conquest Anglo-Saxon law /1/ had required the election of a
certain [256] number of official witnesses, two or three of whom
were to be called in to every bargain of sale. The object for
which these witnesses were established is not commonly supposed
to have been the proof of debts. They go back to a time when
theft and similar offences were the chief ground of litigation,
and the purpose for which they were appointed was to afford a
means of deciding whether a person charged with having stolen
property had come by it rightfully or not. A defendant could
clear himself of the felony by their oath that he had bought or
received the thing openly in the way appointed by law.

Having been present at the bargain, the witnesses were able to
swear to what they had seen and heard, if any question arose
between the parties. Accordingly, their use was not confined to
disposing of a charge of felony. But that particular service
identifies the transaction witnesses of the Saxon period. Now we
know that the use of these witnesses did not at once disappear
under Norman influence. They are found with their old function in
the laws of William the Conqueror. /1/ The language of Glanvill
seems to prove that they were still known under Henry II. He says
that, if a purchaser cannot summon in the man from whom he
bought, to warrant the property to him and defend the suit, (for
if he does, the peril is shifted to the seller,) then if the
purchaser has sufficient proof of his having lawfully bought the
thing, de legittimo marcatu suo, it will clear him of felony. But
if he have not sufficient suit, he will be in danger. /2/ This is
the law of William over again. It follows that purchasers still
used the transaction witnesses.

But Glanvill also seems to admit the use of witness to establish
debts. /1/ As the transaction witnesses were formerly available
for this purpose, I see no reason to doubt that they still were,
and that he is speaking of them here also. /2/ Moreover, for a
long time after Henry II., whenever an action was brought for a
debt of which there was no written evidence, the plaintiff, when
asked what he had to show for it, always answered "good suit,"
and tendered his witnesses, who were sometimes examined by the
court. /3/ I think it is not straining the evidence to infer that
the "good suit" of the later reports was the descendant of the
Saxon transaction witnesses, as it has been shown that Glanvill's
secta was. /4/

Assuming this step in the argument to have been taken, it will be
well to recall again for a moment the original nature of the
witness oath. It was confined to facts within the witnesses'
knowledge by sight and hearing. But as the purposes for which
witnesses were provided only required their presence when
property changed hands, the principal case in which they could be
of service between the parties [258] to a bargain was when a debt
was claimed by reason of the delivery of property. The purpose
did not extend to agreements which were executory on both sides,
because there no question of theft could arise. And Glanvill
shows that in his time the King's Court did not enforce such
agreements. /1/ Now, if the oath of the secta could only be used
to establish a debt where the transaction witnesses could have
sworn, it will be seen, readily enough, how an accident of
procedure may have led to a most important rule of substantive
law.

The rule that witnesses could only swear to facts within their
knowledge, coupled with the accident that these witnesses were
not used in transactions which might create a debt, except for a
particular fact, namely, the delivery of property, together with
the further accident that this delivery was quid pro quo, was
equivalent to the rule that, when a debt was proved by witnesses
there must be quid pro quo. But these debts proved by witnesses,
instead of by deed are what we call simple contract debts, and
thus beginning with debt, and subsequently extending itself to
other contracts, is established our peculiar and most important
doctrine that every simple contract must have a consideration.
This was never the law as to debts or contracts proved in the
usual way by the defendant's seal, and the fact that it applied
only to obligations which were formerly established by a
procedure of limited use, [259] goes far to show that the
connection with procedure was not accidental.

The mode of proof soon changed, but as late as the reign of Queen
Elizabeth we find a trace of this original connection. It is
said, "But the common law requires that there should be a new
cause (i. e. consideration), whereof the country may have
intelligence or knowledge for the trial of it, if need be, so
that it is necessary for the Public-weal." /1/ Lord Mansfield
showed his intuition of the historical grounds of our law when he
said, "I take it that the ancient notion about the want of
consideration was for the sake of evidence only; for when it is
reduced into writing, as in covenants, specialties, bonds, etc.,
there was no objection to the want of consideration." /2/

If it should be objected that the preceding argument is
necessarily confined to debt, whereas the requirement of
consideration applies equally to all simple contracts, the answer
is, that in all probability the rule originated with debt, and
spread from debt to other contracts.

But, again, it may be asked whether there were no other contracts
proved by witness except those which have been mentioned. Were
there no contracts proved in that way to which the accidental
consideration was wanting? To this also there is an easy answer.
The contracts enforced by the civil courts, even as late as Henry
II., were few and simple. The witness procedure was no doubt
broad enough for all the contracts which were made in early
times. Besides those of sale, loan, and the like, which have been
mentioned, I find but two contractual [260] obligations. These
were the warranties accompanying a sale and suretyship which was
referred to at the beginning of the Lecture. Of the former,
warranty of title was rather regarded as an obligation raised by
the law out of the relation of buyer and seller than as a
contract. Other express warranties were matters within the
knowledge of the transaction witnesses, and were sworn to by them
in Saxon times. /1/

But in the Norman period warranty is very little heard of, except
with regard to land, and then it was decided by the duel. It so
wholly disappeared, except where it was embodied in a deed, that
it can have had no influence upon the law of consideration. I
shall therefore assume, without more detail, that it does not
bear upon the case.

Then as to the pledge or surety. He no longer paid with his body,
unless in very exceptional cases, but his liability was
translated into money, and enforced in an action of debt. This
time-honored contract, like the other debts of Glanvill's time,
could be established by witness without a writing, /2/ and in
this case there was not such a consideration, such a benefit to
the promisor, as the law required when the doctrine was first
enunciated. But this also is unimportant, because his liability
on the oath of witness came to an end, as well as that of the
warrantor, before the foundations were laid for the rule which I
am seeking to explain. A writing soon came to be required, as
will be seen in a moment.

The result so far is, that the only action of contract in
Glanvill's time was debt, that the only debts recovered [261]
without writing were those which have been described, and that
the only one of these for which there was not quid pro quo ceased
to be recoverable in that way by the reign of Edward III.

But great changes were beginning in the reign of Henry II. More
various and complex contracts soon came to be enforced. It may be
asked, Why was not the scope of the witness oath enlarged, or, if
any better proof were forthcoming, why was not the secta done
away with, and other oral testimony admitted? In any event, what
can the law of Henry II.'s time have to do with consideration,
which not heard of until centuries later?

It is manifest that a witness oath, which disposes of a case by
the simple fact that it is sworn, is not a satisfactory mode of
proof. A written admission of debt produced in court, and
sufficiently identified as issuing from the defendant, is
obviously much better. The only weak point about a writing is the
means of identifying it as the defendant's, and this difficulty
disappeared as soon as the use of seals became common. This had
more or less taken place in Glanvill's time, and then all that a
party had to do was to produce the writing and satisfy the court
by inspection that the impression on the wax fitted his
opponent's seal. /1/ The oath of the secta could always be
successfully met by wager of law, /2/ that is, by a counter oath
the part of the defendant, with the same or double the number of
fellow-swearers produced by the plaintiff. But a writing proved
to be the defendant's could not be contradicted. [262] /1/ For if
a man said he was bound, he was bound. There was no question of
consideration, because there was as yet no such doctrine. He was
equally bound if he acknowledged all obligation in any place
having a record, such as the superior courts, by which his
acknowledgment could be proved. Indeed, to this day some
securities are taken simply by an oral admission before the clerk
of a court noted by him in his papers. The advantage of the
writing was not only that it furnished better proof in the old
cases, but also that it made it possible to enforce obligations
for which there would otherwise have been no proof at all.

What has been said sufficiently explains the preference of proof
by writing to proof by the old-fashioned witness oath. But there
were other equally good reasons why the latter should not be
extended beyond its ancient limits. The transaction witnesses
were losing their statutory and official character. Already in
Glanvill's time the usual modes of proving a debt were by the
duel or by writing. /2/ A hundred years later Bracton shows that
the secta had degenerated to the retainers and household of the
party, and he says that their oath raises but a slight
presumption. /3/

Moreover, a new mode of trial was growing up, which, although it
was not made use of in these cases /4/ for a good while, must
have tended to diminish the estimate set on the witness oath by
contrast. This was the beginning of our trial by jury. It was at
first an inquest of the neighbors [263] most likely to know about
a disputed matter of fact. They spoke from their own knowledge,
but they were selected by an officer of the court instead of by
the interested party, and were intended to be impartial. /1/ Soon
witnesses were summoned before them, not, as of old, to the case
by their oath, but to aid the inquest to find a verdict by their
testimony. With the advent of this enlightened procedure, the
secta soon ceased to decide the case, and it may well be asked
why it did not disappear and leave no traces.

Taking into account the conservatism of the English law, and the
fact that, before deeds came in, the only debts for which there
had been a remedy were debts proved by the transaction witnesses,
it would not have been a surprise to find the tender of suit
persisting in those cases. But there was another reason still
more imperative. The defence in debt where there was no deed was
by wager of law. /2/ A section of Magna Charta was interpreted to
prohibit a man's being put to his law on the plaintiff's own
statement without good witness. /3/ Hence, the statute required
witness--that is, the secta--in every case of debt where the
plaintiff did not rely upon a writing. Thus it happened that suit
continued to be tendered in those cases where it had been of old,
/4/ and as the defendant, if he did not admit the debt in such
cases, always waged his law, it was long before the inquest got
much foothold.

To establish a debt which arose merely by way of promise or
acknowledgment, and for which there had formerly [264] been no
mode of trial provided, you must have a writing, the new form of
proof which introduced it into the law. The rule was laid down,
"by parol the party is not obliged." /1/ But the old debts were
not conceived of as raised by a promise. /2/ They were a "duty"
springing from the plaintiff's receipt of property, a fact which
could be seen and sworn to. In these cases the old law maintained
and even extended itself a little by strict analogy.

But the undertaking of a surety, in whatever form it was clothed,
did not really arise out of any such fact. It had become of the
same nature as other promises, and it was soon doubted whether it
should not be proved by the same evidence. /3/ By the reign of
Edward III., it was settled that a deed was necessary, /4/ except
where the customs of particular cities had kept the old law in
force. /5/

This reign may be taken as representing the time when the
divisions and rules of procedure were established which have
lasted until the present day. It is therefore worth while to
repeat and sum up the condition of the law at that time.

It was still necessary that the secta should be tendered in every
action of debt for which no writing was produced. For this, as
well as for the other reasons which have been mentioned, the
sphere of such actions was not materially enlarged beyond those
cases which had formerly been established by the witness-oath.
As suretyship was no [265] longer one of these, they became
strictly limited to cases in which the debt arose from the
receipt of a quid pro quo. Moreover there was no other action of
contract which could be maintained without a writing. New species
of contracts were now enforced by an action of covenant, but
there a deed was always necessary. At the same time the secta had
shrunk to a form, although it was still argued that its function
was more important in contract than elsewhere. It could no longer
be examined before the court. /1/ It was a mere survival, and the
transaction witness had ceased to be an institution. Hence, the
necessity of tendering the witness oath did not fix the limit of
debt upon simple contract except by tradition, and it is not
surprising to find that the action was slightly extended by
analogy from its scope in Glanvill's time.

But debt remained substantially at the point which I have
indicated, and no new action available for simple contracts was
introduced for a century. In the mean time the inversion which I
have explained took place, and what was an accident of procedure
had become a doctrine of substantive law. The change was easy
when the debts which could be enforced without deed all sprung
from a benefit to the debtor.

The influence of the Roman law, no doubt, aided in bringing about
this result. It will be remembered that in the reign of Henry II.
most simple contracts and debts for which there was not the
evidence of deed or witness were left to be enforced by the
ecclesiastical courts, so far as their jurisdiction extended. /2/
Perhaps it was this circumstance [266] which led Glanvill and his
successors to apply the terminology of the civilians to
common-law debts. But whether he borrowed it from the
ecclesiastical courts, or went directly to the fountain-head,
certain it is that Glanvill makes use of the classification and
technical language of the Corpus Juris throughout his tenth book.

There were certain special contracts in the Roman system called
real, which bound the contractor either to return a certain thing
put into his hands by the contractee, as in a case of lease or
loan, or to deliver other articles of the same kind, as when
grain, oil, or money was lent. This class did not correspond,
except in the most superficial way, with the common-law debts.
But Glanvill adopted the nomenclature, and later writers began to
draw conclusions from it. The author of Fleta, a writer by no
means always intelligent in following and adopting his
predecessors' use of the Roman law, /1/ says that to raise a debt
there must be not only a certain thing promised, but a certain
thing promised in return. /2/

If Fleta had confined his statement to debts by simple contract,
it might well have been suggested by the existing state of the
law. But as he also required a writing and a seal, in addition to
the matter given or promised in return, the doctrine laid down by
him can hardly have prevailed at any time. It was probably
nothing more than a slight vagary of reasoning based upon the
Roman elements which he borrowed from Bracton.

[267] It only remains to trace the gradual appearance of
consideration in the decisions. A case of the reign of Edward
III. /1/ seems to distinguish between a parol obligation founded
on voluntary payments by the obligee and one founded on a payment
at the obligor's request. It also speaks of the debt or "duty" in
that case as arising by cause of payments. Somewhat similar
language is used in the next reign. /2/ So, in the twelfth year
of Henry IV., /3/ there is an approach to the thought: "If money
is promised to a man for making a release, and he makes the
release, he will have a good action of debt in the matter." In
the next reign /4/ it was decided that, in such a case, the
plaintiff could not recover without having executed the release,
which is explained by the editor on the ground that ex nudo pacto
non oritur actio. But the most important fact is, that from
Edward I. to Henry VI. we find no case where a debt was
recovered, unless a consideration had in fact been received.

Another fact to be noticed is, that since Edward III. debts
arising from a transaction without writing are said to arise from
contract, as distinguished from debts arising from an obligation.
/5/ Hence, when consideration was required as such, it was
required in contracts not under seal, whether debts or not. Under
Henry VI. quid pro quo became a necessity in all such contracts.
In the third year of that reign /6/ it was objected to au action
upon an [268] assumpsit for not building a mill, that it was not
shown what the defendant was to have for doing it. In the
thirty-sixth year of the same reign (A.D. 1459), the doctrine
appears full grown, and is assumed to be familiar. /1/

The case turned upon a question which was debated for centuries
before it was settled, whether debt would lie for a sum of money
promised by the defendant to the plaintiff if he would marry the
defendant's daughter. But whereas formerly the debate had been
whether the promise was not so far incident to the marriage that
it belonged exclusively to the jurisdiction of the spiritual
courts, it now touched the purely mundane doubt whether the
defendant had had quid pro quo.

It will be remembered that the fact formerly sworn to by the
transaction witnesses was a benefit to the defendant, namely, a
delivery of the things sold or the money lent to him. Such cases,
also, offer the most obvious form of consideration. The natural
question is, what the promisor was to have for his promise. /2/
It is only by analysis that the supposed policy of the law is
seen to be equally satisfied by a detriment incurred by the
promisee. It therefore not unnaturally happened that the judges,
when they first laid down the law that there must be quid pro
quo, were slow to recognize a detriment to the contractee as
satisfying the requirement which had been laid down. In the case
which I have mentioned some of the judges were inclined to hold
that getting rid of his daughter was a sufficient benefit to the
defendant to make him a debtor for the money which he promised;
and there was even some hint of the opinion, that marrying the
lady was a [269] consideration, because it was a detriment to the
promisee. /1/ But the other opinion prevailed, at least for a
time, because the defendant had had nothing from the plaintiff to
raise a debt. /2/

So it was held that a service rendered to a third person upon the
defendant's request and promise of a reward would not be enough,
/3/ although not without strong opinions to the contrary, and for
a time the precedents were settled. It became established law
that an action of debt would only lie upon a consideration
actually received by and enuring to the benefit of the debtor.

It was, however, no peculiarity of either the action or contract
of debt which led to this view, but the imperfectly developed
theory of consideration prevailing between the reigns of Henry
VI. and Elizabeth. The theory the same in assumpsit, /4/ and in
equity. /5/ Wherever consideration was mentioned, it was always
as quid pro quo, as what the contractor was to have for his
contract.

Moreover, before consideration was ever heard of, debt was the
time-honored remedy on every obligation to pay money enforced by
law, except the liability to damages for a wrong. /6/ It has been
shown already that a surety could be sued in debt until the time
of Edward III. without a writing, yet a surety receives no
benefit from the dealing with his principal. For instance, if a
man sells corn to A, [270] and B says, "I will pay if A does
not," the sale does B no good so far as appears by the terms of
the bargain. For this reason, debt cannot now be maintained
against a surety in such a case.

It was not always so. It is not so to this day if there is an
obligation under seal. In that case, it does not matter how the
obligation arose, or whether there was any consideration for it
or not. But a writing was a more general way of establishing a
debt in Glanvill's time than witness, and it is absurd to
determine the scope of the action by considering only a single
class of debts enforced by it. Moreover, a writing for a long
time was only another, although more conclusive, mode of proof.
The foundation of the action was the same, however it was proved.
This was a duty or "duity" /1/ to the plaintiff, in other words,
that money was due him, no matter how, as any one may see by
reading the earlier Year Books. Hence it was, that debt lay
equally upon a judgment, /2/ which established such a duty by
matter of record, or upon the defendant's admission recorded in
like manner. /3/

To sum up, the action of debt has passed through three stages. At
first, it was the only remedy to recover money due, except when
the liability was simply to pay damages for a wrongful act. It
was closely akin to--indeed it was but a branch of--the action
for any form of personal property which the defendant was bound
by contract or otherwise to hand over to the plaintiff. /4/ If
there was a contract to pay money, the only question was how you
[271] could prove it. Any such contract, which could be proved by
any of the means known to early law, constituted a debt. There
was no theory of consideration, and therefore, of course, no
limit to either the action or the contract based upon the nature
of the consideration received.

The second stage was when the doctrine of consideration was
introduced in its earlier form of a benefit to the promisor. This
applied to all contracts not under seal while it prevailed, but
it was established while debt was the only action for money
payable by such contracts. The precedents are, for the most part,
precedents in debt.

The third stage was reached when a larger view was taken of
consideration, and it was expressed in terms of detriment to the
promisee. This change was a change in substantive law, and
logically it should have been applied throughout. But it arose in
another and later form of action, under circumstances peculiarly
connected with that action, as will be explained hereafter. The
result was that the new doctrine prevailed in the new action, and
the old in the old, and that what was really the anomaly of
inconsistent theories carried out side by side disguised itself
in the form of a limitation upon the action of debt. That action
did not remain, as formerly, the remedy for all binding contracts
to pay money, but, so far as parol contracts were concerned,
could only be used where the consideration was a benefit actually
received by the promisor. With regard to obligations arising in
any other way, it has remained unchanged.

I must now devote a few words to the effect upon our law of the
other mode of proof which I have mentioned. I mean charters. A
charter was simply a writing. As few could write, most people had
to authenticate a document [272] in some other way, for instance,
by making their mark. This was, in fact, the universal practice
in England until the introduction of Norman customs. /1/ With
them seals came in. But as late as Henry II. they were said by
the Chief Justice of England to belong properly only to kings and
to very great men. /2/ I know no ground for thinking that an
authentic charter had any less effect at that time when not under
seal than when it was sealed. /3/ It was only evidence either
way, and is called so in many of the early cases. /4/ It could be
waived, and suit tendered in its place. /5/ Its conclusive effect
was due to the satisfactory nature of the evidence, not to the
seal. /6/

But when seals came into use they obviously made the evidence of
the charter better, in so far as the seal was more difficult to
forge than a stroke of the pen. Seals acquired such importance,
that, for a time, a man was bound by his seal, although it was
affixed without his consent. /7/ At last a seal came to be
required, in order that a charter should have its ancient effect.
/8/

A covenant or contract under seal was no longer a promise well
proved; it was a promise of a distinct nature, for which a
distinct form of action came to be provided. [273] /1/ I have
shown how the requirement of consideration became a rule of
substantive law, and also why it never had any foothold in the
domain of covenants. The exception of covenants from the
requirement became a rule of substantive law also. The man who
had set his hand to a charter, from being bound because he had
consented to be, and because there was a writing to prove it, /2/
was now held by force of the seal and by deed alone as
distinguished from all other writings. And to maintain the
integrity of an inadequate theory, a seal was said to a
consideration.

Nowadays, it is sometimes thought more philosophical to say that
a covenant is a formal contract, which survives alongside of the
ordinary consensual contract, just as happened in the Roman law.
But this is not a very instructive way of putting it either. In
one sense, everything is form which the law requires in order to
make a promise binding over and above the mere expression of the
promisor's will. Consideration is a form as much as a seal. The
only difference is, that one form is of modern introduction, and
has a foundation in good sense, or at least in with our common
habits of thought, so that we do not notice it, whereas the other
is a survival from an older condition of the law, and is less
manifestly sensible, or less familiar. I may add, that, under the
influence of the latter consideration, the law of covenants is
breaking down. In many States it is held that a mere scroll or
flourish of the pen is a sufficient seal. From this it is a short
step to abolish the distinction between sealed and unsealed
instruments altogether, and this has been done in some of the
Western States.

[274] While covenants survive in a somewhat weak old age, and
debt has disappeared, leaving a vaguely disturbing influence
behind it, the whole modern law of contract has grown up through
the medium of the action of Assumpsit, which must now be
explained.

After the Norman conquest all ordinary actions were begun by a
writ issuing from the king, and ordering the defendant to be
summoned before the court to answer the plaintiff. These writs
were issued as a matter of course, in the various well-known
actions from which they took their names. There were writs of
debt and of covenant; there were writs of trespass for forcible
injuries to the plaintiff's person, or to property in his
possession, and so on. But these writs were only issued for the
actions which were known to the law, and without a writ the court
had no authority to try a case. In the time of Edward I. there
were but few of such actions. The cases in which you could
recover money of another fell into a small number of groups, for
each of which there was a particular form of suing and stating
your claim.

These forms had ceased to be adequate. Thus there were many cases
which did not exactly fall within the definition of a trespass,
but for which it was proper that a remedy should be furnished. In
order to furnish a remedy, the first thing to be done was to
furnish a writ. Accordingly, the famous statute of 13 Edward I.,
c. 24, authorized the office from which the old writs issued to
frame new ones in cases similar in principle to those for which
writs were found, and requiring like remedy, but not exactly
falling within the scope of the writs already in use.

Thus writs of trespass on the case began to make their
appearance; that is, writs stating a ground of complaint [275] to
a trespass, but not quite amounting to a trespass as it had been
sued for in the older precedents. To take an instance which is
substantially one of the earliest cases, suppose that a man left
a horse with a blacksmith to be shod, and he negligently drove a
nail into the horse's foot. It might be that the owner of the
horse could not have one of the old writs, because the horse was
not in his possession when the damage was done. A strict trespass
property could only be committed against the person in possession
of it. It could not be committed by one who was in possession
himself. /1/ But as laming the horse was equally a wrong, whether
the owner held the horse by the bridle or left it with the smith,
and as the wrong was closely analogous to a trespass, although
not one, the law gave the owner a writ of trespass on the case.
/2/

An example like this raises no difficulty; it is as much an
action of tort for a wrong as trespass itself. No contract was
stated, and none was necessary on principle. But this does not
belong to the class of cases to be considered, for the problem
before us is to trace the origin of assumpsit, which is an action
of contract. Assumpsit, however, began as an action of trespass
on the case, and the thing to be discovered is how trespass on
the case ever became available for a mere breach of agreement.

It will be well to examine some of the earliest cases in which an
undertaking (assumpsit) was alleged. The first reported in the
books is of the reign of Edward III. /3/ The plaintiff alleged
that the defendant undertook to carry the plaintiff's horse
safely across the Humber, but surcharged [276] the boat, by
reason of which the horse perished. It was objected that the
action should have been either covenant for breach of the
agreement, or else trespass. But it was answered that the
defendant committed a wrongful act when he surcharged the boat,
and the objection was overruled. This case again, although an
undertaking was stated, hardly introduced a new principle. The
force did not proceed directly from the defendant, to be sure,
but it was brought to bear by the combination of his overloading
and then pushing into the stream.

The next case is of the same reign, and goes further. /1/ The
writ set forth that the defendant undertook to cure the
plaintiff's horse of sickness (manucepit equum praedicti W. de
infirmirate), and did his work so negligently that the horse
died. This differs from the case of laming the horse with a nail
in two respects. It does not charge any forcible act, nor indeed
any act at all, but a mere omission. On the other hand, it states
an undertaking, which the other did not. The defendant at once
objected that this was an action for a breach of an undertaking,
and that the plaintiff should have brought covenant. The
plaintiff replied, that he could not do that without a deed, and
that the action was for negligently causing the death of the
horse; that is, for a tort, not for a breach of contract. Then,
said the defendant, you might have had trespass. But the
plaintiff answered that by saying that the horse was not killed
by force, but died per def. de sa cure; and upon this argument
the writ was adjudged good, Thorpe, J. saying that he had seen a
man indicted for killing a patient by want of care (default in
curing), whom he had undertaken to cure.

[277] Both these cases, it will be seen, were dealt with by the
court as pure actions of tort, notwithstanding the allegation of
an undertaking on the part of the defendant. But it will also be
seen that they are successively more remote from an ordinary case
of trespass. In the case last stated, especially, the destroying
force did not proceed from the defendant in any sense. And thus
we are confronted with the question, What possible analogy could
have been found between a wrongful act producing harm, and a
failure to act at all?

I attempt to answer it, let me illustrate a little further by
examples of somewhat later date. Suppose a man undertook to work
upon another's house, and by his unskilfulness spoiled his
employer's timbers; it would be like a trespass, although not
one, and the employer would sue in trespass on the case. This was
stated as clear law by one of the judges in the reign of Henry
IV. /1/ But suppose that, instead of directly spoiling the
materials, the carpenter had simply left a hole in the roof
through which the rain had come in and done the damage. The
analogy to the previous case is marked, but we are a step farther
away from trespass, because the force does not come from the
defendant. Yet in this instance also the judges thought that
trespass on the case would lie. /2/ In the time of Henry IV. the
action could not have been maintained for a simple refusal to
build according to agreement; but it was suggested by the court,
that, if the writ had mentioned "that the thing had been
commenced and then by not done, it would have been otherwise."
/3/

[278] I now recur to the question, What likeness could there have
been between an omission and a trespass sufficient to warrant a
writ of trespass on the case? In order to find an answer it is
essential to notice that in all the earlier cases the omission
occurred in the course of dealing with the plaintiff's person or
property, and occasioned damage to the one or the other. In view
of this fact, Thorpe's reference to indictments for killing a
patient by want of care, and the later distinction between
neglect before and after the task is commenced, are most
pregnant. The former becomes still more suggestive when it is
remembered that this is the first argument or analogy to be found
upon the subject.

The meaning of that analogy is plain. Although a man has a
perfect right to stand by and see his neighbor's property
destroyed, or, for the matter of that, to watch his neighbor
perish for want of his help, yet if he once intermeddles he has
no longer the same freedom. He cannot withdraw at will. To give a
more specific example, if a surgeon from benevolence cuts the
umbilical cord of a newly-born child, he cannot stop there and
watch the patient bleed to death. It would be murder wilfully to
allow death to come to pass in that way, as much as if the
intention had been entertained at the time of cutting the cord.
It would not matter whether the wickedness began with the act, or
with the subsequent omission.

The same reasoning applies to civil liability. A carpenter need
not go to work upon another man's house at all, but if he accepts
the other's confidence and intermeddles, he cannot stop at will
and leave the roof open to the weather. So in the case of the
farrier, when he had taken charge of the horse, he could not stop
at the critical moment [279] and leave the consequences to
fortune. So, still more clearly, when the ferryman undertook to
carry a horse across the Humber, although the water drowned the
horse, his remote acts of overloading his boat and pushing it
into the stream in that condition occasioned the loss, and he was
answerable for it.

In the foregoing cases the duty was independent of contract, or
at least was so regarded by the judges who decided them, and
stood on the general rules applied to human conduct even by the
criminal law. The immediate occasion of the damage complained of
may have been a mere omission letting in the operation of natural
forces. But if you connect it, as it was connected in fact, with
the previous dealings, you have a course of action and conduct
which, taken as a whole, has caused or occasioned the harm.

The objection may be urged, to be sure, that there is a
considerable step from holding a man liable for the consequences
of his acts which he might have prevented, to making him
answerable for not having interfered with the course of nature
when he neither set it in motion nor opened the door for it to do
harm, and that there is just that difference between making a
hole in a roof and leaving it open, or cutting the cord and
letting it bleed, on the one side, and the case of a farrier who
receives a sick horse and omits proper precautions, on the other.
/1/

There seem to be two answers to this. First, it is not clear that
such a distinction was adverted to by the court which decided the
case which I have mentioned. It was alleged that the defendant
performed his cure so negligently that the horse died. It might
not have occurred to [280] the judges that the defendant's
conduct possibly went no further than the omission of a series of
beneficial measures. It was probably assumed to have consisted of
a combination of acts and neglects, which taken as a whole
amounted to an improper dealing with the thing.

In the next place, it is doubtful whether the distinction is a
sound one on practical grounds. It may well be that, so long as
one allows a trust to be reposed in him, he is bound to use such
precautions as are known to him, although he has made no
contract, and is at liberty to renounce the trust in any
reasonable manner. This view derives some support from the issue
on which the parties went to trial, which was that the defendant
performed the cure as well as he knew how, without this, that the
horse died for default of his care (cure?). /1/

But it cannot be denied that the allegation of an undertaking
conveyed the idea of a promise, as well as that of an entering
upon the business in hand. Indeed, the latter element is
sufficiently conveyed, perhaps, without it. It may be asked,
therefore, whether the promise did not count for something in
raising a duty to act. So far as this involves the consequence
that the action was in fact for the breach of a contract, the
answer has been given already, and is sustained by too great a
weight of authority to be doubted. /2/ To bind the defendant by a
contract, an instrument under seal was essential. As has been
shown, already, even the ancient sphere of debt had been limited
by this requirement, and in the time of Edward III. a deed was
necessary even to bind a surety. It was so [281] a fortiori to
introduce a liability upon promises not enforced by the ancient
law. Nevertheless, the suggestion was made at an early date, that
an action on the case for damage by negligence, that is, by an
omission of proper precautions, alleging an undertaking by way of
inducement, was in fact an action of contract.

Five years after the action for negligence in curing a horse,
which has been stated, an action was brought /1/ in form against
a surgeon, alleging that he undertook to cure the plaintiff's
hand, and that by his negligence the hand was maimed. There was,
however, this difference, that it was set forth that the
plaintiff's hand had been wounded by one T.B. And hence it
appeared that, however much the bad treatment may have aggravated
matters, the maiming was properly attributable to T.B., and that
the plaintiff had an action against him. This may have led the
defendant to adopt the course he did, because he felt uncertain
whether any action of tort would lie. He took issue on the
undertaking, assuming that to be essential to the plaintiff's
case, and then objected that the writ did not show the place of
the undertaking, and hence was bad, because it did not show
whence the inquest should be summoned to speak to that point. The
writ was adjudged bad on that ground, which seems as if the court
sanctioned the defendant's view. Indeed, one of the judges called
it an action of covenant, and said that "of necessity it was
maintainable without specialty, because for so small a matter a
man cannot always have a clerk at hand to write a deed" (pur
faire especially). At the same time the earlier cases which [282]
have been mentioned were cited and relied on, and it is evident
that the court was not prepared to go beyond them, or to hold
that the action could be maintained on its merits apart from the
technical objection. In another connection it seems to have
considered the action from the point of view of trespass. /1/

Whatever questions this case may suggest, the class of actions
which alleged an undertaking on the part of the defendant
continued to be dealt with as actions of tort for a long time
after Edward III. The liability was limited to damage to person
or property arising after the defendant had entered upon the
employment. And it was mainly through reasoning drawn from the
law of tort that it was afterwards extended, as will be seen.

At the beginning of the reign of Henry VI. it was probably still
the law that the action would not lie for a simple failure to
keep a promise. /2/ But it had been several times suggested, as
has been shown, that it would be otherwise if the omission or
neglect occurred in the course of performance, and the
defendant's conduct had been followed by physical damage. /3/
This suggestion took its most striking form in the early years of
Henry VI., when the case of the carpenter leaving a hole in the
roof was put. /4/ When the courts had got as far as this, it was
easy to go one step farther, and to allow the same effect to an
omission at any stage, followed by similar damage.

[283] What is the difference in principle, it was asked, a few
years later, /1/ between the cases where it is admitted that the
action will lie, and that of a smith who undertakes to shoe a
horse and does not, by reason of which the horse goes lame,--or
that of a lawyer, who undertakes to argue your case, and, after
thus inducing you to rely upon him, neglects to be present, so
that you lose it? It was said that in the earlier instances the
duty was dependent on or accessory to the covenant, and that, if
the action would lie on the accessory matter, it would lie on the
principal. /2/ It was held on demurrer that an action would lie
for not procuring certain releases which the defendant had
undertaken to get.

Five years later another case /3/ came up, which was very like
that of the farrier in the reign of Edward III. It was alleged
that the defendant undertook to cure the plaintiff's horse, and
applied medicine so negligently that the horse died. In this, as
in the earlier case, the issue was taken on the assumpsit. And
now the difference between an omission and an act was clearly
stated, the declaration was held not to mean necessarily anything
more than an omission, and it was said that but for the
undertaking the defendant would have owed no duty to act. Hence
the allegation of the defendant's promise was material, and an
issue could properly be taken on it.

This decision distinctly separated from the mass of actions on
the case a special class arising out of a promise as the source
of the defendant's obligation, and it was only a matter of time
for that class to become a new and distinct [284] action of
contract. Had this change taken place at once, the doctrine of
consideration, which was first definitely enunciated about the
same time, would no doubt have been applied, and a quid pro quo
would have been required for the undertaking. /1/ But the notion
of tort was not at once abandoned. The law was laid down at the
beginning of the reign of Henry VII., in accordance with the
earlier decisions, and it was said that the action would not lie
for a failure to keep a promise, but only for negligence after
the defendant had entered upon his undertaking. /2/

So far as the action did not exceed the true limits of tort, it
was immaterial whether there was a consideration for the
undertaking or not. But when the mistake was made of supposing
that all cases, whether proper torts or not, in which an
assumpsit was alleged, were equally founded on the promise, one
of two erroneous conclusions was naturally thought to follow.
Either no assumpsit needed any quid pro quo, /3/ as there was
clearly none in the older precedents, (they being cases of pure
tort,) or else those precedents were wrong, and a quid pro quo
should be alleged in every case. It was long recognized with more
or less understanding of the true limit, that, in cases where the
gist of the action was negligent damage to property, a
consideration was not necessary. /4/ And there are some traces of
the notion that it was always superfluous, as late as Charles I.

[285] In a case of that reign, the defendant retained an attorney
to act in a suit for a third person, and promised to pay him all
his fees and expenses. The attorney rendered the service, and
then brought debt. It was objected that debt did not lie, because
there was no contract between the parties, and the defendant had
not any quid pro quo. The court adopted the argument, and said
that there was no contract or consideration to ground this
action, but that the plaintiff might have sued in assumpsit. /1/

It was, perhaps, the lingering of this idea, and the often
repeated notion that an assumpsit was not a contract, /2/ to
which was attributable a more enlarged theory of consideration
than prevailed in debt. It was settled that assumpsit would lie
for a mere omission or nonfeasance. The cases which have been
mentioned of the reign of Henry VI. were followed by others in
the latter years of Henry VII., /3/ and it was never again
doubted. An action for such a cause was clearly for a breach of
promise, as had been recognized from the time of Edward III. If
so, a consideration was necessary. /4/ Notwithstanding occasional
vagaries, that also had been settled or taken for granted in many
cases of Queen Elizabeth's time. But the bastard origin of the
action which gave rise to the doubt how far any consideration at
all was necessary, made it possible to hold considerations
sufficient which had been in debt.

Another circumstance may not have been without its influence. It
would seem that, in the period when assumpsit [286] was just
growing into its full proportions, there was some little
inclination to identify consideration with the Roman causa, taken
in its broadest sense. The word "cause" was used for
consideration in the early years of Elizabeth, with reference to
a covenant to stand seized to uses. /1/ It was used in the same
sense in the action of assumpsit. /2/ In the last cited report,
although the principal case only laid down a doctrine that would
be followed to-day, there was also stated an anonymous case which
was interpreted to mean that an executed consideration furnished
upon request, but without any promise of any kind, would support
a subsequent promise to pay for it. /3/ Starting from this
authority and the word "cause," the conclusion was soon reached
that there was a great difference between a contract and an
assumpsit; and that, whereas in contracts "everything which is
requisite ought to concur and meet together, viz. the
consideration of the one side, and the sale or the promise on the
other side,... to maintain an action upon an assumpsit, the same
is not requisite, for it is sufficient if there be a moving cause
or consideration precedent; for which cause or consideration the
promise was made." /4/

Thus, where the defendant retained the plaintiff to be [287] to
his aunt at ten shillings a week, it was held that assumpsit
would lie, because the service, though not beneficial to the
defendant, was a charge or detriment to the plaintiff. /1/ The
old questions were reargued, and views which were very near
prevailing in debt under Henry VI., prevailed in assumpsit under
Elizabeth and James.

A surety could be sued in assumpsit, although he had ceased to be
liable in debt. /2/ There was the same remedy on a promise in
consideration that the plaintiff would marry the defendant's
daughter. /3/ The illusion that assumpsit thus extended did not
mean contract, could not be kept up. In view of this admission
and of the ancient precedents, the law oscillated for a time in
the direction of reward as the true essence of consideration. /4/
But the other view prevailed, and thus, in fact, made a change in
the substantive law. A simple contract, to be recognized as
binding by the courts of Henry VI., must have been based upon a
benefit to the debtor; now a promise might be enforced in
consideration of a detriment to the promisee. But in the true
archaic spirit the doctrine was not separated or distinguished
from the remedy which introduced it, and thus debt in modern
times has presented the altered appearance of a duty limited to
cases where the consideration was of a special sort.

The later fortunes of assumpsit can be briefly told. It
introduced bilateral contracts, because a promise was a [288]
detriment, and therefore a sufficient consideration for another
promise. It supplanted debt, because the existence of the duty to
pay was sufficient consideration for a promise to pay, or rather
because, before a consideration was required, and as soon as
assumpsit would lie for a nonfeasance, this action was used to
avoid the defendant's wager of law. It vastly extended the number
of actionable contracts, which had formerly been confined to
debts and covenants, whereas nearly any promise could be sued in
assumpsit; and it introduced a theory which has had great
influence on modern law,--that all the liabilities of a bailee
are founded on contract. /1/ Whether the prominence which was
thus given to contract as the foundation of legal rights and
duties had anything to do with the similar prominence which it
soon acquired in political speculation, it is beyond my province
to inquire.

[289]




LECTURE VIII. -- CONTRACT. II. ELEMENTS.

THE general method to be pursued in the analysis of contract is
the same as that already explained with regard to possession.
Wherever the law gives special rights to one, or imposes special
burdens on another, it does so on the ground that certain special
facts are true of those individuals. In all such cases,
therefore, there is a twofold task. First, to determine what are
the facts to which the special consequences are attached; second,
to ascertain the consequences. The first is the main field of
legal argument. With regard to contracts the facts are not always
the same. They may be that a certain person has signed, sealed,
and delivered a writing of a certain purport. They may be that he
has made an oral promise, and that the promisee has furnished him
a consideration.

The common element of all contracts might be said to be a
promise, although even a promise was not necessary to a liability
in debt as formerly understood. But as it will not be possible to
discuss covenants further, and as consideration formed the main
topic of the last Lecture, I will take up that first.
Furthermore, as there is an historical difference between
consideration in debt and in assumpsit, I shall confine myself to
the latter, which is the later and more philosophical form.

It is said that any benefit conferred by the promisee on the
promisor, or any detriment incurred by the promisee, [290] may be
a consideration. It is also thought that every consideration may
be reduced to a case of the latter sort, using the word
"detriment" in a somewhat broad sense.

To illustrate the general doctrine, suppose that a man is
desirous of having a cask of brandy carried from Boston to
Cambridge, and that a truckman, either out of kindness or from
some other motive, says that he will carry it, and it is
delivered to him accordingly. If he carelessly staves in the
cask, there would perhaps be no need to allege that he undertook
to carry it, and on principle, and according to the older cases,
if an undertaking was alleged, no consideration for the assumpsit
need be stated. /1/ The ground of complaint in that case would be
a wrong, irrespective of contract. But if the complaint was that
he did not carry it as agreed, the plaintiff's difficulty would
be that the truckman was not bound to do so unless there was a
consideration for his promise. Suppose, therefore, that it was
alleged that he promised to do so in consideration of the
delivery to him. Would this be a sufficient consideration? The
oldest cases, going on the notion of benefit to the promisor,
said that it could not be, for it was a trouble, not a benefit.
/2/ Then take it from the side of detriment. The delivery is a
necessary condition to the promisor's doing the kindness, and if
he does it, the delivery, so far from being a detriment to the
promisee, is a clear benefit to him.

But this argument is a fallacy. Clearly the delivery would be
sufficient consideration to enable the owner to declare in
assumpsit for the breach of those duties which [291] arose,
irrespective of contract, from the defendant's having undertaken
to deal with the thing. /1/ It would be a sufficient
consideration for any promise not involving a dealing with the
thing for its performance, for instance, to pay a thousand
dollars. /2/ And the law has not pronounced the consideration
good or bad according to the nature of the promise founded upon
it. The delivery is a sufficient consideration for any promise.
/3/

The argument on the other side leaves out of sight the point of
time at which the sufficiency of the consideration is to be
determined. This is the moment when the consideration is
furnished. At that moment the delivery of the cask is a detriment
in the strictest sense. The owner of the cask has given up a
present control over it, which he has a right to keep, and he has
got in return, not a performance for which a delivery was
necessary, but a mere promise of performance. The performance is
still future. /4/

But it will be seen that, although the delivery may be a
consideration, it will not necessarily be one. A promise to carry
might be made and accepted on the understanding that it was mere
matter of favor, without consideration, and not legally binding.
In that case the detriment of delivery would be incurred by the
promisee as before, but obviously it would be incurred for the
sole purpose of enabling the promisor to carry as agreed.

[292] It appears to me that it has not always been sufficiently
borne in mind that the same thing may be a consideration or not,
as it is dealt with by the parties. The popular explanation of
Coggs v. Bernard is, that the delivery was a consideration for a
promise to carry the casks safely. I have given what I believe to
be the true explanation, and that which I think Lord Holt had in
view, in the fifth Lecture. /1/ But whether that which I have
offered be true or not, a serious objection to the one which is
commonly accepted is that the declaration does not allege that
the delivery was the consideration.

The same caution should be observed in construing the terms of an
agreement. It is hard to see the propriety of erecting any
detriment which an instrument may disclose or provide for, into a
consideration, unless the parties have dealt with it on that
footing. In many cases a promisee may incur a detriment without
thereby furnishing a consideration. The detriment may be nothing
but a condition precedent to performance of the promise, as where
a man promises another to pay him five hundred dollars if he
breaks his leg. /2/

The courts, however, have gone far towards obliterating this
distinction. Acts which by a fair interpretation of language
would seem to have been contemplated as only the compliance with
a condition, have been treated as the consideration of the
promise. /3/ And so have counter promises in an agreement which
expressly stated other matters as the consideration. /4/ So it
should be mentioned, subject [293] to the question whether there
may not be a special explanation for the doctrine, that it is
said that an assignment of a leasehold cannot be voluntary under
the statute of 27 Elizabeth, c. 4, because the assignee comes
into the obligations of the tenant. /1/ Yet the assignee's
incurring this detriment may not be contemplated as the
inducement of the assignment, and in many cases only amounts to a
deduction from the benefit conferred, as a right of way would be,
especially if the only obligation is to pay rent, which issues
out of the land in theory of law.

But although the courts may have sometimes gone a little far in
their anxiety to sustain agreements, there can be no doubt of the
Principle which I have laid down, that the same thing may be a
consideration or not, as it is dealt with by the parties. This
raises the question how a thing must be dealt with, in order to
make it a consideration.

It is said that consideration must not be confounded with motive.
It is true that it must not be confounded with what may be the
prevailing or chief motive in actual fact. A man may promise to
paint a picture for five hundred dollars, while his chief motive
may be a desire for fame. A consideration may be given and
accepted, in fact, solely for the purpose of making a promise
binding. But, nevertheless, it is the essence of a consideration,
that, by the terms of the agreement, it is given and accepted as
the motive or inducement of the promise. Conversely, the promise
must be made and accepted as the conventional motive or
inducement for furnishing the consideration. The root of the
whole matter is the relation of reciprocal [294] conventional
inducement, each for the other, between consideration and
promise.

A good example of the former branch of the proposition is to be
found in a Massachusetts case. The plaintiff refused to let
certain wood be removed from his land by one who had made an oral
bargain and given his note for it, unless he received additional
security. The purchaser and the plaintiff accordingly went to the
defendant, and the defendant put his name upon the note. The
plaintiff thereupon let the purchaser carry off the wood. But,
according to the testimony, the defendant signed without knowing
that the plaintiff was to alter his position in any way on the
faith of the signature, and it was held that, if that story was
believed, there was no consideration. /1/

An illustration of the other half of the rule is to be found in
those cases where a reward is offered for doing something, which
is afterwards done by a person acting in ignorance of the offer.
In such a case the reward cannot be claimed, because the alleged
consideration has not been furnished on the faith of the offer.
The tendered promise has not induced the furnishing of the
consideration. The promise cannot be set up as a conventional
motive when it was not known until after the alleged
consideration was performed. /2/

Both sides of the relation between consideration and promise, and
the conventional nature of that relation, may be illustrated by
the case of the cask. Suppose that the [295] truckman is willing
to carry the cask, and the owner to let him carry it, without any
bargain, and that each knows the other's state of mind; but that
the truckman, seeing his own advantage in the matter, says to the
owner, "In consideration of your delivering me the cask, and
letting me carry it, I promise to carry it," and that the owner
thereupon delivers it. I suppose that the promise would be
binding. The promise is offered in terms as the inducement for
the delivery, and the delivery is made in terms as the inducement
for the promise. It may be very probable that the delivery would
have been made without a promise, and that the promise would have
been made in gratuitous form if it had not been accepted upon
consideration; but this is only a guess after all. The delivery
need not have been made unless the owner chose, and having been
made as the term of a bargain, the promisor cannot set up what
might have happened to destroy the effect of what did happen. It
would seem therefore that the same transaction in substance and
spirit might be voluntary or obligatory, according to the form of
words which the parties chose to employ for the purpose of
affecting the legal consequences.

If the foregoing principles be accepted, they will be seen to
explain a doctrine which has given the courts some trouble to
establish. I mean the doctrine that an executed consideration
will not sustain a subsequent promise. It has been said, to be
sure, that such a consideration was sufficient if preceded by a
request. But the objections to the view are plain. If the request
was of such a nature, and so put, as reasonably to imply that the
other person was to have a reward, there was an express promise,
although not put in words, and that promise was made at [296] the
same time the consideration was given, and not afterwards. If, on
the other hand, the words did not warrant the understanding that
the service was to be paid for, the service was a gift, and a
past gift can no more be a consideration than any other act of
the promisee not induced by the promise.

The source of the error can be traced partially, at least, in
history. Some suggestions touching the matter were made in the
last Lecture. A few words should be added here. In the old cases
of debt, where there was some question whether the plaintiff had
showed enough to maintain his action, a "contract precedent" was
spoken of several times as raising the duty. Thus, where a man
had granted that he would be bound in one hundred shillings to
pay his servant on a certain day for his services, and for
payments made by the servant on his account, it was argued that
there was no contract precedent, and that by parol the party is
not obliged; and, further, that, so far as appeared, the payments
were made by the servant out of his own head and at no request,
from which no duty could commence. /1/

So when debt was brought on a deed to pay the plaintiff ten
marks, if he would take the defendant's daughter to wife, and it
was objected that the action should have been covenant, it was
answered that the plaintiff had a contract precedent which gave
him debt. /2/

The first case in assumpsit /3/ only meant to adopt this long
familiar thought. A man went bail for his friend's servant, who
had been arrested. Afterwards the master [297] promised to
indemnify the bail, and on his failure to do so was sued by him
in assumpsit. It was held that there was no consideration
wherefore the defendant should be charged unless the master had
first promised to indemnify the plaintiff before the servant was
bailed; "for the master did never make request to the plaintiff
for his servant to do so much, but he did it of his own head."
This is perfectly plain sailing, and means no more than the case
in the Year Books. The report, however, also states a case in
which it was held that a subsequent promise, in consideration
that the plaintiff at the special instance of the defendant had
married the defendant's cousin, was binding, and that the
marriage was "good cause... because [it] ensued the request of
the defendant." Whether this was intended to establish a general
principle, or was decided with reference to the peculiar
consideration of marriage, /1/ it was soon interpreted in the
broader sense, as was shown in the last Lecture. It was several
times adjudged that a past and executed matter was a sufficient
consideration for a promise at a later day, if only the matter
relied on had been done or furnished at the request of the
promisor. /2/

It is now time to analyze the nature of a promise, which is the
second and most conspicuous element in a simple contract. The
Indian Contract Act, 1872, Section 2,8 says:--

 "(a.) When one person signifies to another his willingness [298]
to do or to abstain from doing anything, with a view to obtaining
the assent of that other to such act or abstinence, he is said to
make a proposal:

 "(b.) When the person to whom the proposal is made signifies his
assent thereto, the proposal is said to be accepted. A proposal
when accepted becomes a promise."

According to this definition the scope of promises is confined to
conduct on the part of the promisor. If this only meant that the
promisor alone must bear the legal burden which his promise may
create, it would be true. But this is not the meaning. For the
definition is of a promise, not of a legally binding promise. We
are not seeking for the legal effects of a contract, but for the
possible contents of a promise which the law may or may not
enforce. We must therefore only consider the question what can
possibly be promised in a legal sense, not what will be the
secondary consequence of a promise binding, but not performed.

An assurance that it shall rain to-morrow, /1/ or that a third
person shall paint a picture, may as well be a promise as one
that the promisee shall receive from some source one hundred
bales of cotton, or that the promisor will pay the promisee one
hundred dollars. What is the difference in the cases? It is only
in the degree of power possessed by the promisor over the event.
He has none in the first case. He has equally little legal
authority to make a man paint a picture, although he may have
larger means of persuasion. He probably will be able to make sure
that the promisee has the cotton. Being a rich man, he is certain
[299] to be able to pay the one hundred dollars, except in the
event of some most improbable accident.

But the law does not inquire, as a general thing, how far the
accomplishment of an assurance touching the future is within the
power of the promisor. In the moral world it may be that the
obligation of a promise is confined to what lies within reach of
the will of the promisor (except so far as the limit is unknown
on one side, and misrepresented on the other). But unless some
consideration of public policy intervenes, I take it that a man
may bind himself at law that any future event shall happen. He
can therefore promise it in a legal sense. It may be said that
when a man covenants that it shall rain to-morrow, or that A
shall paint a picture, he only says, in a short form, I will pay
if it does not rain, or if A does not paint a picture. But that
is not necessarily so. A promise could easily be framed which
would be broken by the happening of fair weather, or by A not
painting. A promise, then, is simply an accepted assurance that a
certain event or state of things shall come to pass.

But if this be true, it has more important bearings than simply
to enlarge the definition of the word promise. It concerns the
theory of contract. The consequences of a binding promise at
common law are not affected by the degree of power which the
promisor possesses over the promised event. If the promised event
does not come to pass, the plaintiff's property is sold to
satisfy the damages, within certain limits, which the promisee
has suffered by the failure. The consequences are the same in
kind whether the promise is that it shall rain, or that another
man shall paint a picture, or that the promisor will deliver a
bale of cotton.

[300] If the legal consequence is the same in all cases, it seems
proper that all contracts should be considered from the same
legal point of view. In the case of a binding promise that it
shall rain to-morrow, the immediate legal effect of what the
promisor does is, that he takes the risk of the event, within
certain defined limits, as between himself and the promisee. He
does no more when he promises to deliver a bale of cotton.

If it be proper to state the common-law meaning of promise and
contract in this way, it has the advantage of freeing the subject
from the superfluous theory that contract is a qualified
subjection of one will to another, a kind of limited slavery. It
might be so regarded if the law compelled men to perform their
contracts, or if it allowed promisees to exercise such
compulsion. If, when a man promised to labor for another, the law
made him do it, his relation to his promisee might be called a
servitude ad hoc with some truth. But that is what the law never
does. It never interferes until a promise has been broken, and
therefore cannot possibly be performed according to its tenor. It
is true that in some instances equity does what is called
compelling specific performance. But, in the first place, I am
speaking of the common law, and, in the next, this only means
that equity compels the performance of certain elements of the
total promise which are still capable of performance. For
instance, take a promise to convey land within a certain time, a
court of equity is not in the habit of interfering until the time
has gone by, so that the promise cannot be performed as made. But
if the conveyance is more important than the time, and the
promisee prefers to have it late rather than never, the law may
compel the performance of [301] that. Not literally compel even
in that case, however, but put the promisor in prison unless he
will convey. This remedy is an exceptional one. The only
universal consequence of a legally binding promise is, that the
law makes the promisor pay damages if the promised event does not
come to pass. In every case it leaves him free from interference
until the time for fulfilment has gone by, and therefore free to
break his contract if he chooses.

A more practical advantage in looking at a contract as the taking
of a risk is to be found in the light which it throws upon the
measure of damages. If a breach of contract were regarded in the
same light as a tort, it would seem that if, in the course of
performance of the contract the promisor should be notified of
any particular consequence which would result from its not being
performed, he should be held liable for that consequence in the
event of non-performance. Such a suggestion has been made. /1/
But it has not been accepted as the law. On the contrary,
according to the opinion of a very able judge, which seems to be
generally followed, notice, even at the time of making the
contract, of special circumstances out of which special damages
would arise in case of breach, is not sufficient unless the
assumption of that risk is to be taken as having fairly entered
into the contract. /2/ If a carrier should undertake to carry the
machinery of a saw-mill from Liverpool to Vancouver's Island, and
should fail [302] to do so, he probably would not be held liable
for the rate of hire of such machinery during the necessary
delay, although he might know that it could not be replaced
without sending to England, unless he was fairly understood to
accept "the contract with the special condition attached to it."
/1/

It is true that, when people make contracts, they usually
contemplate the performance rather than the breach. The express
language used does not generally go further than to define what
will happen if the contract is fulfilled. A statutory requirement
of a memorandum in writing would be satisfied by a written
statement of the promise as made, because to require more would
be to run counter to the ordinary habits of mankind, as well as
because the statement that the effect of a contract is the
assumption of the risk of a future event does not mean that there
is a second subsidiary promise to assume that risk, but that the
assumption follows as a consequence directly enforced by the law,
without the promisor's co-operation. So parol evidence would be
admissible, no doubt, to enlarge or diminish the extent of the
liability assumed for nonperformance, where it would be
inadmissible to affect the scope of the promise.

But these concessions do not affect the view here taken. As the
relation of contractor and contractee is voluntary, the
consequences attaching to the relation must be voluntary. What
the event contemplated by the promise is, or in other words what
will amount to a breach of contract, is a matter of
interpretation and construction. What consequences of the breach
are assumed is more remotely, in like manner, a matter of
construction, having regard [303] to the circumstances under
which the contract is made. Knowledge of what is dependent upon
performance is one of those circumstances. It is not necessarily
conclusive, but it may have the effect of enlarging the risk
assumed.

The very office of construction is to work out, from what is
expressly said and done, what would have been said with regard to
events not definitely before the minds of the parties, if those
events had been considered. The price paid in mercantile
contracts generally excludes the construction that exceptional
risks were intended to be assumed. The foregoing analysis is
believed to show that the result which has been reached by the
courts on grounds of practical good sense, falls in with the true
theory of contract under the common law.

The discussion of the nature of a promise has led me to analyze
contract and the consequences of contract somewhat in advance of
their place. I must say a word more concerning the facts which
constitute a promise. It is laid down, with theoretical truth,
that, besides the assurance or offer on the one side, there must
be an acceptance on the other. But I find it hard to think of a
case where a simple contract fails to be made, which could not be
accounted for on other grounds, generally by the want of relation
between assurance or offer and consideration as reciprocal
inducements each of the other. Acceptance of an offer usually
follows by mere implication from the furnishing of the
consideration; and inasmuch as by our law an accepted offer, or
promise, until the consideration is furnished, stands on no
different footing from an offer not yet accepted, each being
subject to revocation until that time, and each continuing [304]
until then unless it has expired or has been revoked, the
question of acceptance is rarely of practical importance.

Assuming that the general nature of consideration and promise is
understood, some questions peculiar to bilateral contracts remain
to be considered. These concern the sufficiency of the
consideration and the moment when the contract is made.

A promise may be a consideration for a promise, although not
every promise for every other. It may be doubted whether a
promise to make a gift of one hundred dollars would be supported
by a promise to accept it. But in a case of mutual promises
respectively to transfer and to accept unpaid shares in a railway
company, it has been held that a binding contract was made. Here
one party agrees to part with something which may prove valuable,
and the other to assume a liability which may prove onerous. /1/

But now suppose that there is no element of uncertainty except in
the minds of the parties. Take, for instance, a wager on a past
horse-race. It has been thought that this would amount to an
absolute promise on one side, and no promise at all on the other.
/2/ But this does not seem to me sound. Contracts are dealings
between men, by which they make arrangements for the future. In
making such arrangements the important thing is, not what is
objectively true, but what the parties know. Any present fact
which is unknown to the parties is just as uncertain for the
purposes of making an arrangement at this moment, as any future
fact. It is therefore a detriment to undertake to be ready to pay
if the event turns out not [305] to have been as expected. This
seems to be the true explanation why forbearance to sue upon a
claim believed the plaintiff to be good is a sufficient
consideration, although the claim was bad in fact, and known by
the defendant to be bad. /1/ Were this view unsound, it is hard
to see how wagers on any future event, except a miracle, could be
sustained. For if the happening or not happening of the event is
subject to the law of causation, the only uncertainty about it is
in our foresight, not in its happening.

The question when a contract is made arises for the most part
with regard to bilateral contracts by letter, the doubt being
whether the contract is complete at the moment when the return
promise is put into the post, or at the moment when it is
received. If convenience preponderates in favor of either view,
that is a sufficient reason for its adoption. So far as merely
logical grounds go, the most ingenious argument in favor of the
later moment is Professor Langdell's. According to him the
conclusion follows from the fact that the consideration which
makes the offer binding is itself a promise. Every promise, he
says, is an offer before it is a promise, and the essence of an
offer is that it should be communicated. /2/ But this reasoning
seems unsound. When, as in the case supposed, the consideration
for the return promise has been put into the power of the offeree
and the return promise has been accepted in advance, there is not
an instant, either in time or logic, when the return promise is
an offer. It is a promise and a term of a binding contract as
soon as it is anything. An offer is a revocable and unaccepted
communication of willingness to promise. [306] When an offer of a
certain bilateral contract has been made, the same contract
cannot be offered by the other side. The so-called offer would
neither be revocable nor unaccepted. It would complete the
contract as soon as made.

If it be said that it is of the essence of a promise to be
communicated, whether it goes through the stage of offer or not,
meaning by communicated brought to the actual knowledge of the
promisee, the law is believed to be otherwise. A covenant is
binding when it is delivered and accepted, whether it is read or
not. On the same principle, it is believed that, whenever the
obligation is to be entered into by a tangible sign, as, in the
case supposed, by letter containing the return promise, and the
consideration for and assent to the promise are already given,
the only question is when the tangible sign is sufficiently put
into the power of the promisee. I cannot believe that, if the
letter had been delivered to the promisee and was then snatched
from his hands before he had read it, there would be no contract.
/1/ If I am right, it appears of little importance whether the
post-office be regarded as agent or bailee for the offerer, or as
a mere box to which he has access. The offeree, when he drops the
letter containing the counter-promise into the letter-box, does
an overt act, which by general understanding renounces control
over the letter, and puts it into a third hand for the benefit of
the offerer, with liberty to the latter at any moment thereafter
to take it.

The principles governing revocation are wholly different. One to
whom an offer is made has a right to assume that it remains open
according to its terms until he has actual [307] notice to the
contrary. The effect of the communication must be destroyed by a
counter communication. But the making of a contract does not
depend on the state of the parties' minds, it depends on their
overt acts. When the sign of the counter promise is a tangible
object, the contract is completed when the dominion over that
object changes.

[308]




LECTURE IX. -- CONTRACT.--III. VOID AND VOIDABLE.

THE elements of fact necessary to call a contract into existence,
and the legal consequences of a contract when formed, have been
discussed. It remains to consider successively the cases in which
a contract is said to be void, and those in which it is said to
be voidable,--in which, that is, a contract fails to be made when
it seems to have been, or, having been made, can be rescinded by
one side or the other, and treated as if it had never been. I
take up the former class of cases first.

When a contract fails to be made, although the usual forms have
been gone through with, the ground of failure is commonly said to
be mistake, misrepresentation, or fraud. But I shall try to show
that these are merely dramatic circumstances, and that the true
ground is the absence of one or more of the primary elements,
which have been shown, or are seen at once, to be necessary to
the existence of a contract.

If a man goes through the form of making a contract with A
through B as A's agent, and B is not in fact the agent of A,
there is no contract, because there is only one party. The
promise offered to A has not been accepted by him, and no
consideration has moved from him. In such a case, although there
is generally mistake on one side and fraud on the other, it is
very clear that no special [309] doctrine need be resorted to,
because the primary elements of a contract explained in the last
Lecture are not yet present.

Take next a different case. The defendant agreed to buy, and the
plaintiff agreed to sell, a cargo of cotton, "to arrive ex
Peerless from Bombay." There were two such vessels sailing from
Bombay, one in October, the other in December. The plaintiff
meant the latter, the defendant the former. It was held that the
defendant was not bound to accept the cotton. /1/ It is commonly
said that such a contract is void, because of mutual mistake as
to the subject-matter, and because therefore the parties did not
consent to the same thing. But this way of putting it seems to me
misleading. The law has nothing to do with the actual state of
the parties' minds. In contract, as elsewhere, it must go by
externals, and judge parties by their conduct. If there had been
but one "Peerless," and the defendant had said "Peerless" by
mistake, meaning "Peri," he would have been bound. The true
ground of the decision was not that each party meant a different
thing from the other, as is implied by the explanation which has
been mentioned, but that each said a different thing. The
plaintiff offered one thing, the defendant expressed his assent
to another.

A proper name, when used in business or in pleading, /2/ means
one individual thing, and no other, as every one knows, and
therefore one to whom such a name is used must find out at his
peril what the object designated is. If there are no
circumstances which make the use deceptive on either side, each
is entitled to insist on the [310] meaning favorable to him for
the word as used by him, and neither is entitled to insist on
that meaning for the word as used by the other. So far from
mistake having been the ground of decision, as mistake, its only
bearing, as it seems to me, was to establish that neither party
knew that he was understood by the other to use the word
"Peerless "in the sense which the latter gave to it. In that
event there would perhaps have been a binding contract, because,
if a man uses a word to which he knows the other party attaches,
and understands him to attach, a certain meaning, he may be held
to that meaning, and not be allowed to give it any other. /1/

Next, suppose a case in which the offer and acceptance do not
differ, and in which both parties have used the same words in the
same sense. Suppose that A agreed to buy, and B agreed to sell,
"these barrels of mackerel," and that the barrels in question
turn out to contain salt. There is mutual mistake as to the
contents of the barrels, and no fraud on either side. I suppose
the contract would be void. /2/

It is commonly said that the failure of the contract in such a
case is due to the fact of a difference in kind between the
actual subject-matter and that to which the intention of the
parties was directed. It is perhaps more instructive to say that
the terms of the supposed contract, although seemingly
consistent, were contradictory, in matters that went to the root
of the bargain. For, by one of the essential terms, the
subject-matter of the agreement was the contents of certain
barrels, and nothing else, and, by another equally important, it
was mackerel, and nothing else; [311] while, as a matter of fact,
it could not be both, because the contents of the barrels were
salt. As neither term could be left out without forcing on the
parties a contract which they did not make, it follows that A
cannot be required to accept, nor B to deliver either these
barrels of salt, or other barrels of mackerel; and without
omitting one term, the promise is meaningless.

If there had been fraud on the seller's part, or if he had known
what the barrels really contained, the buyer might have had a
right to insist on delivery of the inferior article. Fraud would
perhaps have made the contract valid at his option. Because, when
a man qualifies sensible words with others which he knows, on
secret grounds, are insensible when so applied, he may fairly be
taken to authorize his promisee to insist on the possible part of
his promise being performed, if the promisee is willing to forego
the rest.

Take one more illustration like the last case. A policy of
insurance is issued on a certain building described in the policy
as a machine-shop. In fact the building is not a machine-shop,
but an organ factory, which is a greater risk. The contract is
void, not because of any misrepresentation, but, as before,
because two of its essential terms are repugnant, and their union
is insensible. /1/

Of course the principle of repugnancy last explained might be
stretched to apply to any inconsistency between the different
terms of a contract. It might be said, for instance, that if a
piece of gold is sold as eighteen-carat gold, and it is in fact
not so pure, or if a cow is sold as yielding an average of twelve
quarts of milk a day, and in fact she yields only six quarts,
there is no logical difference, [312] according to the
explanation which has just been offered, between those cases and
that of the barrel of salt sold for mackerel. Yet those bargains
would not be void. At the most, they would only be voidable, if
the buyer chose to throw them up.

The distinctions of the law are founded on experience, not on
logic. It therefore does not make the dealings of men dependent
on a mathematical accuracy. Whatever is promised, a man has a
right to be paid for, if it is not given; but it does not follow
that the absence of some insignificant detail will authorize him
to throw up the contract, still less that it will prevent the
formation of a contract, which is the matter now under
consideration. The repugnant terms must both be very
important,--so important that the court thinks that, if either is
omitted, the contract would be different in substance from that
which the words of the parties seemed to express.

A term which refers directly to an identification by the senses
has always this degree of importance. If a promise is made to
sell this cow, or this mackerel, to this man, whatever else may
be stricken from the contract, it can never be enforced except
touching this object and by this man. If this barrel of salt is
fraudulently sold for a barrel of mackerel, the buyer may perhaps
elect to take this barrel of salt if he chooses, but he cannot
elect to take another barrel of mackerel. If the seller is
introduced by the name B, and the buyer supposes him to be
another person of the same name, and under that impression
delivers his written promise to buy of B, the B to whom the
writing is delivered is the contractee, if any one is, and,
notwithstanding what has been said of the use of proper names, I
should suppose [313] a contract would be made. /1/ For it is
further to be said that, so far as by one of the terms of a
contract the thing promised or the promisee is identified by
sight and hearing, that term so far preponderates over all others
that it is very rare for the failure of any other element of
description to prevent the making of a contract. /2/ The most
obvious of seeming exceptions is where the object not in fact so
identified, but only its covering or wrapper.

Of course the performance of a promise may be made conditional on
all the terms stipulated from the other side being complied with,
but conditions attaching to performance can never come into
consideration until a contract has been made, and so far the
question has been touching the existence of a contract in the
first instance.

A different case may be suggested from any yet considered.
Instead of a repugnancy between offer and assent which prevents
an agreement, or between the terms of an agreement which makes it
insensible on its fact, there may be a like repugnancy between a
term of the contract and a previous representation of fact which
is not expressly made a part of the contract. The representation
may have been the chief inducement and very foundation of the
bargain. It may be more important than any of the expressed
terms, and yet the contract may have [314] been reduced to
writing in words which cannot fairly be construed to include it.
A vendor may have stated that barrels filled with salt contain
mackerel, but the contract may be only for the barrels and their
contents. An applicant for insurance may have misstated facts
essential to the risk, yet the policy may simply insure a certain
building or a certain life. It may be asked whether these
contracts are not void also.

There might conceivably be cases in which, taking into account
the nature of the contract, the words used could be said to
embody the representation as a term by construction. For
instance, it might be said that the true and well-understood
purport of a contract of insurance is not, as the words seem to
say, to take the risk of any loss by fire or perils of the sea,
however great the risk may be, but to take a risk of a certain
magnitude, and no other, which risk has been calculated
mathematically from the statements of the party insured. The
extent of the risk taken is not specified in the policy, because
the old forms and established usage are otherwise, but the
meaning is perfectly understood.

If this reasoning were adopted, there would be an equal
repugnancy in the terms of the contract, whether the nature of
the risk were written in the policy or fixed by previous
description. But, subject to possible exceptions of this kind, it
would seem that a contract would be made, and that the most that
could be claimed would be a right to rescind. Where parties
having power to bind themselves do acts and use words which are
fit to create an obligation, I take it that an obligation arises.
If there is a mistake as to a fact not mentioned in the contract,
it goes only to the motives for making the contract. But a [315]
contract is not prevented from being made by the mere fact that
one party would not have made it if he had known the truth. In
what cases a mistake affecting motives is a ground for avoidance,
does not concern this discussion, because the subject now under
consideration is when a contract is made, and the question of
avoiding or rescinding it presupposes that it has been made.

I think that it may now be assumed that, when fraud,
misrepresentation, or mistake is said to make a contract void,
there is no new principle which comes in to set aside an
otherwise perfect obligation, but that in every such case there
is wanting one or more of the first elements which were explained
in the foregoing Lecture. Either there is no second party, or the
two parties say different things, or essential terms seemingly
consistent are really inconsistent as used.

When a contract is said to be voidable, it is assumed that a
contract has been made, but that it is subject to being unmade at
the election of one party. This must be because of the breach of
some condition attached to its existence either expressly or by
implication.

If a condition is attached to the contract's coming into being,
there is as yet no contract. Either party may withdraw, at will,
until the condition is determined. There is no obligation,
although there may be an offer or a promise, and hence there is
no relation between the parties which requires discussion here.
But some conditions seemingly arising out of a contract already
made are conditions of this sort. Such is always the case if the
condition of a promise lies within the control of the promisor's
own will. For instance, a promise to pay for clothes if made to
the customer's satisfaction, has been held in Massachusetts to
[316] make the promisor his own final judge. /1/ So interpreted,
it appears to me to be no contract at all, until the promisor's
satisfaction is expressed. His promise is only to pay if he sees
fit, and such a promise cannot be made a contract because it
cannot impose any obligation. /2/ If the promise were construed
to mean that the clothes should be paid for provided they were
such as ought to satisfy the promisor, /3/ and thus to make the
jury the arbiter, there would be a contract, because the promisor
gives up control over the event, but it would be subject to a
condition in the sense of the present analysis.

The conditions which a contract may contain have been divided by
theorists into conditions precedent and conditions subsequent.
The distinction has even been pronounced of great importance. It
must be admitted that, if the course of pleading be taken as a
test, it is so. In some cases, the plaintiff has to state that a
condition has been performed in order to put the defendant to his
answer; in others, it is left to the defendant to set up that a
condition has been broken.

In one sense, all conditions are subsequent; in another, all are
precedent. All are subsequent to the first stage of the
obligation. /4/ Take, for instance, the case of a promise to pay
for work if done to the satisfaction of an architect. The
condition is a clear case of what is called a condition
precedent. There can be no duty to pay until the architect is
satisfied. But there can be a [317] contract before that moment,
because the determination whether the promisor shall pay or not
is no longer within his control. Hence the condition is
subsequent to the existence of the obligation.

On the other hand, every condition subsequent is precedent to the
incidence of the burden of the law. If we look at the law as it
would be regarded by one who had no scruples against doing
anything which he could do without incurring legal consequences,
it is obvious that the main consequence attached by the law to a
contract is a greater or less possibility of having to pay money.
The only question from the purely legal point of view is whether
the promisor will be compelled to pay. And the important moment
is that at which that point is settled. All conditions are
precedent to that.

But all conditions are precedent, not only in this extreme sense,
but also to the existence of the plaintiff's cause of action. As
strong a case as can be put is that of a policy of insurance
conditioned to be void if not sued upon within one year from a
failure to pay as agreed. The condition does not come into play
until a loss has occurred, the duty to pay has been neglected,
and a cause of action has arisen. Nevertheless, it is precedent
to the plaintiff's cause of action. When a man sues, the question
is not whether he has had a cause of action in the past, but
whether he has one then. He has not one then, unless the year is
still running. If it were left for the defendant to set up the
lapse of the year, that would be due to the circumstance that the
order of pleading does not require a plaintiff to meet all
possible defences, and to set out a case unanswerable except by
denial. The point at which the law calls on the defendant for an
answer varies [318] in different cases. Sometimes it would seem
to be governed simply by convenience of proof, requiring the
party who has the affirmative to plead and prove it. Sometimes
there seems to be a reference to the usual course of events, and
matters belong to the defence because they are only exceptionally
true.

The most logical distinction would be between conditions which
must be satisfied before a promise can be broken, and those
which, like the last, discharge the liability after a breach has
occurred. /1/ But this is of the slightest possible importance,
and it may be doubted whether another case like the last could be
found.

It is much more important to mark the distinction between a
stipulation which only has the effect of confining a promise to
certain cases, and a condition properly so called. Every
condition, it is true, has this effect upon the promise to which
it is attached, so that, whatever the rule of pleading may be,
/2/ a promise is as truly kept and performed by doing nothing
where the condition of the stipulated act has been broken, as it
would have been by doing the act if the condition had been
fulfilled. But if this were all, every clause in a contract which
showed what the promisor did not promise would be a condition,
and the word would be worse than useless. The characteristic
feature is quite different.

A condition properly so called is an event, the happening of
which authorizes the person in whose favor the condition is
reserved to treat the contract as if it had not been made,--to
avoid it, as is commonly said,--that is, to insist on both
parties being restored to the position in [319] which they stood
before the contract was made. When a condition operates as such,
it lets in an outside force to destroy the existing state of
things. For although its existence is due to consent of parties,
its operation depends on the choice of one of them. When a
condition is broken, the person entitled to insist on it may do
so if he chooses; but he may, if he prefers, elect to keep the
contract on foot. He gets his right to avoid it from the
agreement, but the avoidance comes from him.

Hence it is important to distinguish those stipulations which
have this extreme effect from those which only interpret the
extent of a promise, or define the events to which it applies.
And as it has just been shown that a condition need not be
insisted on as such, we must further distinguish between its
operation by way of avoidance, which is peculiar to it, and its
incidental working by way of interpretation and definition, in
common with other clauses not conditions.

This is best illustrated by taking a bilateral contract between A
and B, where A's undertaking is conditional on B's doing what he
promises to do, and where, after A has got a certain distance in
his task, B breaks his half of the bargain. For instance, A is
employed as a clerk by B, and is wrongfully dismissed in the
middle of a quarter. In favor of A, the contract is conditional
on B's keeping his agreement to employ him. Whether A insists on
the condition or not, he is not bound to do any more. /1/ So far,
the condition works simply by way of definition. It establishes
that A has not promised to act in the case which has happened.
But besides this, for which a condition [320] was not necessary,
A may take his choice between two courses. In the first place, he
may elect to avoid the contract. In that case the parties stand
as if no contract had been made, and A, having done work for B
which was understood not to be gratuitous, and for which no rate
of compensation has been fixed, can recover what the jury think
his services were reasonably worth. The contract no longer
determines the quid pro quo. But as an alternative course A may
stand by the contract if he prefers to do so, and sue B for
breaking it. In that case he can recover as part of his damages
pay at the contract rate for what he had done, as well as
compensation for his loss of opportunity to finish it. But the
points which are material for the present discussion are, that
these two remedies are mutually exclusive, /1/ one supposing the
contract to be relied on, the other that it is set aside, but
that A's stopping work and doing no more after B's breach is
equally consistent with either choice, and has in fact nothing to
do with the matter.

One word should be added to avoid misapprehension. When it is
said that A has done all that he promised to do in the case which
has happened, it is not meant that he is necessarily entitled to
the same compensation as if he had done the larger amount of
work. B's promise in the case supposed was to pay so much a
quarter for services; and although the consideration of the
promise was the promise by A to perform them, the scope of it was
limited to the case of their being performed in fact. Hence A
could not simply wait till the end of his term, and then recover
the full amount which he would have had if the employment had
continued. Nor is he any more entitled to do so from [321] the
fact that it was B's fault that the services were not rendered.
B's answer to any such claim is perfect. He is only liable upon a
promise, and he in his turn only promised to pay in a case which
has not happened. He did promise to employ, however, and for not
doing that he is liable in damages.

One or two more illustrations will be useful. A promises to
deliver, and B promises to accept and pay for, certain goods at a
certain time and place. When the time comes, neither party is on
hand. Neither would be liable to an action, and, according to
what has been said, each has done all that he promised to do in
the event which has happened, to wit, nothing. It might be
objected that, if A has done all that he is bound to do, he ought
to be able to sue B, since performance or readiness to perform
was all that was necessary to give him that right, and conversely
the same might be said of B. On the other hand, considering
either B or A as defendant, the same facts would be a complete
defence. The puzzle is largely one of words.

A and B have, it is true, each performed all that they promised
to do at the present stage, because they each only promised to
act in the event of the other being ready and willing to act at
the same time. But the readiness and willingness, although not
necessary to the performance of either promise, and therefore not
a duty, was necessary in order to present a case to which the
promise of action on the other side would apply. Hence, although
A and B have each performed their own promise, they have not
performed the condition to their right of demanding more from the
other side. The performance of that condition is purely optional
until one side has brought it within the [322] scope of the
other's undertaking by performing it himself. But it is
performance in the latter sense, that is, the satisfying of all
conditions, as well as the keeping of his own promises, which is
necessary to give A or B a right of action.

Conditions may be created by the very words of a contract. Of
such cases there is nothing to be said, for parties may agree to
what they choose. But they may also be held to arise by
construction, where no provision is made in terms for rescinding
or avoiding the contract in any case. The nature of the
conditions which the law thus reads in needs explanation. It may
be said, in a general way, that they are directed to the
existence of the manifest grounds for making the bargain on the
side of the rescinding party, or the accomplishment of its
manifest objects. But that is not enough. Generally speaking, the
disappointment must be caused by the wrong-doing of the person on
the other side; and the most obvious cases of such wrong-doing
are fraud and misrepresentation, or failure to perform his own
part of the contract.

Fraud and misrepresentation thus need to be considered once more
in this connection. I take the latter first. In dealing with it
the first question which arises is whether the representation is,
or is not, part of the contract. If the contract is in writing
and the representation is set out on the face of the paper, it
may be material or immaterial, but the effect of its untruth will
be determined on much the same principles as govern the failure
to perform a promise on the same side. If the contract is made by
word of mouth, there may be a large latitude in connecting words
of representation with later words of promise; but when they are
determined to be a part of the contract [323], the same
principles apply as if the whole were in writing.

The question now before us is the effect of a misrepresentation
which leads to, but is not a part of, the contract. Suppose that
the contract is in writing, but does not contain it, does such a
previous misrepresentation authorize rescission in any case? and
if so, does it in any case except where it goes to the height of
fraud? The promisor might say, It does not matter to me whether
you knew that your representation was false or not; the only
thing I am concerned with is its truth. If it is untrue, I suffer
equally whether you knew it to be so or not. But it has been
shown, in an earlier Lecture, that the law does not go on the
principle that a man is answerable for all the consequences of
all his acts. An act is indifferent in itself. It receives its
character from the concomitant facts known to the actor at the
time. If a man states a thing reasonably believing that he is
speaking from knowledge, it is contrary to the analogies of the
law to throw the peril of the truth upon him unless he agrees to
assume that peril, and he did not do so in the case supposed, as
the representation was not made part of the contract.

It is very different when there is fraud. Fraud may as well lead
to the making of a contract by a statement outside the contract
as by one contained in it. But the law would hold the contract
not less conditional on good faith in one case than in the other.

To illustrate, we may take a somewhat extreme case. A says to B,
I have not opened these barrels myself, but they contain No. 1
mackerel: I paid so much for them to so and so, naming a
well-known dealer. Afterwards A writes B, I will sell the barrels
which you saw, and their [324] contents, for so much; and B
accepts. The barrels turn out to contain salt. I suppose the
contract would be binding if the statements touching the contents
were honest, and voidable if they were fraudulent.

Fraudulent representations outside a contract can never, it would
seem, go to anything except the motives for making it. If outside
the contract, they cannot often affect its interpretation. A
promise in certain words has a definite meaning, which the
promisor is presumed to understand. If A says to B, I promise you
to buy this barrel and its contents, his words designate a person
and thing identified by the senses, and they signify nothing
more. There is no repugnancy, and if that person is ready to
deliver that thing, the purchaser cannot say that any term in the
contract itself is not complied with. He may have been
fraudulently induced to believe that B was another B, and that
the barrel contained mackerel; but however much his belief on
those points may have affected his willingness to make the
promise, it would be somewhat extravagant to give his words a
different meaning on that account. "You" means the person before
the speaker, whatever his name, and "contents" applies to salt,
as well as to mackerel.

It is no doubt only by reason of a condition construed into the
contract that fraud is a ground of rescission. Parties could
agree, if they chose, that a contract should be binding without
regard to truth or falsehood outside of it on either part.

But, as has been said before in these Lectures, although the law
starts from the distinctions and uses the language of morality,
it necessarily ends in external standards not dependent on the
actual consciousness of the individual. [325] So it has happened
with fraud. If a man makes a representation, knowing facts which
by the average standard of the community are sufficient to give
him warning that it is probably untrue, and it is untrue, he is
guilty of fraud in theory of law whether he believes his
statement or not. The courts of Massachusetts, at least, go much
further. They seem to hold that any material statement made by a
man as of his own knowledge, or in such a way as fairly to be
understood as made of his own knowledge, is fraudulent if untrue,
irrespective of the reasons he may have had for believing it and
for believing that he knew it. /1/ It is clear, therefore, that a
representation may be morally innocent, and yet fraudulent in
theory of law. Indeed, the Massachusetts rule seems to stop
little short of the principle laid down by the English courts of
equity, which has been criticised in an earlier Lecture, /2/
since most positive affirmations of facts would at least warrant
a jury in finding that they were reasonably understood to be made
as of the party's own knowledge, and might therefore warrant a
rescission if they turned out to be untrue. The moral phraseology
has ceased to be apposite, and an external standard of
responsibility has been reached. But the starting-point is
nevertheless fraud, and except on the ground of fraud, as defined
by law, I do not think that misrepresentations before the
contract affect its validity, although they lead directly to its
making. But neither the contract nor the implied condition calls
for the existence of the facts as to which the false
representations were made. They call only for the absence of
certain false representations. The condition is not that the
promisee shall be a certain other B, or that the contents of the
barrel shall be mackerel, [326] but that the promisee has not
lied to him about material facts.

Then the question arises, How do you determine what facts are
material? As the facts are not required by the contract, the only
way in which they can be material is that a belief in their being
true is likely to have led to the making of the contract.

It is not then true, as it is sometimes said, that the law does
not concern itself with the motives for making contracts. On the
contrary, the whole scope of fraud outside the contract is the
creation of false motives and the removal of true ones. And this
consideration will afford a reasonable test of the cases in which
fraud will warrant rescission. It is said that a fraudulent
representation must be material to have that effect. But how are
we to decide whether it is material or not? If the above argument
is correct, it must be by an appeal to ordinary experience to
decide whether a belief that the fact was as represented would
naturally have led to, or a contrary belief would naturally have
prevented, the making of the contract.

If the belief would not naturally have had such an effect, either
in general or under the known circumstances of the particular
case, the fraud is immaterial. If a man is induced to contract
with another by a fraudulent representation of the latter that he
is a great-grandson of Thomas Jefferson, I do not suppose that
the contract would be voidable unless the contractee knew that,
for special reasons, his lie would tend to bring the contract
about.

The conditions or grounds for avoiding a contract which have been
dealt with thus far are conditions concerning the conduct of the
parties outside of the itself. [327] Still confining myself to
conditions arising by construction of law,--that is to say, not
directly and in terms attached to a promise by the literal
meaning of the words in which it is expressed,--I now come to
those which concern facts to which the contract does in some way
refer.

Such conditions may be found in contracts where the promise is
only on one side. It has been said that where the contract is
unilateral, and its language therefore is all that of the
promisor, clauses in his favor will be construed as conditions
more readily than the same words in a bilateral contract; indeed,
that they must be so construed, because, if they do not create a
condition, they do him no good, since ex hypothesi they are not
promises by the other party. /1/ How far this ingenious
suggestion has had a practical effect on doctrine may perhaps be
doubted.

But it will be enough for the purposes of this general survey to
deal with bilateral contracts, where there are undertakings on
both sides, and where the condition implied in favor of one party
is that the other shall make good what he on his part has
undertaken.

The undertakings of a contract may be for the existence of a fact
in the present or in the future. They can be promises only in the
latter case; but in the former, they be equally essential terms
in the bargain.

Here again we come on the law of representations, but in a new
phase. Being a part of the contract, it is always possible that
their truth should make a condition of the contract wholly
irrespective of any question of fraud. And it often is so in
fact. It is not, however, every representation embodied in the
words used on one side which will [328] make a condition in favor
of the other party. Suppose A agrees to sell, and B agrees to
buy, "A's seven-year-old sorrel horse Eclipse, now in the
possession of B on trial," and in fact the horse is
chestnut-colored, not sorrel. I do not suppose that B could
refuse to pay for the horse on that ground. If the law were so
foolish as to aim at merely formal consistency, it might indeed
be said that there was as absolute a repugnancy between the
different terms of this contract as in the ease of an agreement
to sell certain barrels of mackerel, where the barrels turned out
to contain salt. If this view were adopted, there would not be a
contract subject to a condition, there would be no contract at
all. But in truth there is a contract, and there is not even a
condition. As has been said already, it is not every repugnancy
that makes a contract void, and it is not every failure in the
terms of the counter undertaking that makes it voidable. Here it
plainly appears that the buyer knows exactly what he is going to
get, and therefore that the mistake of color has no bearing on
the bargain. /1/

If, on the other hand, a contract contained a representation
which was fraudulent, and which misled the party to whom it was
made, the contract would be voidable on the same principles as if
the representation had been made beforehand. But words of
description in a contract are very frequently held to amount to
what is sometimes called a warranty, irrespective of fraud.
Whether they do so or not is a question to be determined by the
court on grounds of common sense, looking to the meaning of the
words, the importance in the transaction of the facts [329] which
the words convey, and so forth. But when words of description are
determined to be a warranty, the meaning of the decision is not
merely that the party using them binds himself to answer for
their truth, but that their truth is a condition of the contract.

For instance, in a leading case /1/ the agreement was that the
plaintiff's ship, then in the port of Amsterdam, should, with all
possible despatch, proceed direct to Newport, England, and there
load a cargo of coals for Hong Kong. At the date of the
charter-party the vessel was not in Amsterdam, but she arrived
there four days later. The plaintiff had notice that the
defendant considered time important. It was held that the
presence of the vessel in the port of Amsterdam at the date of
the contract was a condition, the breach of which entitled the
defendant to refuse to load, and to rescind the contract. If the
view were adopted that a condition must be a future event, and
that a promise purporting to be conditional on a past or present
event is either absolute or no promise at all, it would follow
that in this case the defendant had never made a promise. /2/ He
had only promised if circumstances existed which did not exist. I
have already stated my objections to this way of looking at such
cases, /2/ and will only add that the courts, so far as I am
aware, do not sanction it, and certainly did not in this
instance.

There is another ground for holding the charter-party void and no
contract, instead of regarding it as only voidable, which is
equally against authority, which nevertheless I have never been
able to answer wholly to my satisfaction. In the case put, the
representation of the lessor of the vessel [330] concerned the
vessel itself, and therefore entered into the description of the
thing the lessee agreed to take. I do not quite see why there is
not as fatal a repugnancy between the different terms of this
contract as was found in that for the sale of the barrels of salt
described as containing mackerel. Why is the repugnancy between
the two terms,--first, that the thing sold is the contents of
these barrels, and, second, that it is mackerel--fatal to the
existence of a contract? It is because each of those terms goes
to the very root and essence of the contract, /1/--because to
compel the buyer to take something answering to one, but not to
the other requirement, would be holding him to do a substantially
different thing from what he promised, and because a promise to
take one and the same thing answering to both requirements is
therefore contradictory in a substantial matter. It has been seen
that the law does not go on any merely logical ground, and does
not hold that every slight repugnancy will make a contract even
voidable. But, on the other hand, when the repugnancy is between
terms which are both essential, it is fatal to the very existence
of the contract. How then do we decide whether a given term is
essential? Surely the best way of finding out is by seeing how
the parties have dealt with it. For want of any expression on
their part we may refer to the speech and dealings of every day,
/2/ and say that, if its absence would make the subject-matter a
different thing, its presence is essential to the existence of
the agreement. But the parties may agree that anything, however
trifling, shall be essential, as well [331] as that anything,
however important, shall not be; and if that essential is part of
the contract description of a specific thing which is also
identified by reference to the senses, how can there be a
contract in its absence any more than if the thing is in popular
speech different in kind from its description? The qualities that
make sameness or difference of kind for the purposes of a
contract are not determined by Agassiz or Darwin, or by the
public at large, but by the will of the parties, which decides
that for their purposes the characteristics insisted on are such
and such. /1/1 Now, if this be true, what evidence can there be
that a certain requirement is essential, that without it the
subject-matter will be different in kind from the description,
better than that one party has required and the other given a
warranty of its presence? Yet the contract description of the
specific vessel as now in the port of Amsterdam, although held to
be an implied warranty, does not seem to have been regarded as
making the contract repugnant and void, but only as giving the
defendant the option of avoiding it. /2/ Even an express warranty
of quality in sales does not have this effect, and in England,
indeed, it does not allow the purchaser to rescind in case of
breach. On this last point the law of Massachusetts is different.

The explanation has been offered of the English doctrine with
regard to sales, that, when the title has passed, the purchaser
has already had some benefit from the contract, and therefore
cannot wholly replace the seller in statu quo, as must be done
when a contract is rescinded. /3/ This reasoning [332] seems
doubtful, even to show that the contract is not voidable, but has
no bearing on the argument that it is void. For if the contract
is void, the title does not pass.

It might be said that there is no repugnancy in the charterer's
promise, because he only promises to load a certain ship, and
that the words "now in the port of Amsterdam" are merely matter
of history when the time for loading comes, and no part of the
description of the vessel which he promised to load. But the
moment those words are decided to be essential they become part
of the description, and the promise is to load a certain vessel
which is named the Martaban, and which was in the port of
Amsterdam at the date of the contract. So interpreted, it is
repugnant.

Probably the true solution is to be found in practical
considerations. At any rate, the fact is that the law has
established three degrees in the effect of repugnancy. If one of
the repugnant terms is wholly insignificant, it is simply
disregarded, or at most will only found a claim for damages. The
law would be loath to hold a contract void for repugnancy in
present terms, when if the same terms were only promised a
failure of one of them would not warrant a refusal to perform on
the other side. If, on the other hand, both are of the extremest
importance, so that to enforce the rest of the promise or bargain
without one of them would not merely deprive one party of a
stipulated incident, but would force a substantially different
bargain on him, the promise will be void. There is an
intermediate class of cases where it is left to the disappointed
party to decide. But as the lines between the three are of this
vague kind, it is not surprising that they have been differently
drawn in different jurisdictions.

[333] The examples which have been given of undertakings for a
present state of facts have been confined to those touching the
present condition of the subject-matter of the contract. Of
course there is no such limit to the scope of their employment. A
contract may warrant the existence of other facts as well, and
examples of this kind probably might be found or imagined where
it would be clear that the only effect of the warranty was to
attach a condition to the contract, in favor of the other side,
and where the question would be avoided whether there was not
something more than a condition,--a repugnancy which prevented
the formation of any contract at all. But the preceding
illustrations are enough for the present purpose.

We may now pass from undertakings that certain facts are true at
the time of making the contract, to undertakings that certain
facts shall be true at some later time,--that is, to promises
properly so called. The question is when performance of the
promise on one side is a condition to the obligation of the
contract on the other. In practice, this question is apt to be
treated as identical with another, which, as has been shown
earlier, is a distinct point; namely, when performance on one
side is a condition of the right to call for performance on the
other. It is of course conceivable that a promise should be
limited to the case of performance of the things promised on the
other side, and yet that a failure of the latter should not
warrant a rescission of the contract. Wherever one party has
already received a substantial benefit under a contract of a kind
which cannot be restored, it is too late to rescind, however
important a breach may be committed later by the other side. Yet
he may be [334] excused from going farther. Suppose a contract is
made for a month's labor, ten dollars to be paid down, not to be
recovered except in case of rescission for the laborer's fault,
and thirty dollars at the end of the month. If the laborer should
wrongfully stop work at the end of a fortnight, I do not suppose
that the contract could be rescinded, and that the ten dollars
could be recovered as money had and received; /1/ but, on the
other hand, the employer would not be bound to pay the thirty
dollars, and of course he could sue for damages on the contract.
/2/

But, for the most part, a breach of promise which discharges the
promisee from further performance on his side will also warrant
rescission, so that no great harm is done by the popular
confusion of the two questions. Where the promise to perform on
one side is limited to the case of performance on the other, the
contract is generally conditioned on it also. In what follows, I
shall take up the cases which I wish to notice without stopping
to consider whether the contract was in a strict sense
conditioned on performance of the promise on one side, or whether
the true construction was merely that the promise on the other
side was limited to that event.

Now, how do we settle whether such a condition exists? It is easy
to err by seeking too eagerly for simplicity, and by striving too
hard to reduce all cases to artificial presumptions, which are
less obvious than the decisions which they are supposed to
explain. The foundation of the whole matter is, after all, good
sense, as the courts have often said. The law means to carry out
the intention of the parties, and, so far as they have not
provided [335] for the event which has happened, it has to say
what they naturally would have intended if their minds had been
turned to the point. It will be found that decisions based on the
direct implications of the language used, and others based upon a
remoter inference of what the parties must have meant, or would
have said if they had spoken, shade into each other by
imperceptible degrees.

Mr. Langdell has called attention to a very important principle,
and one which, no doubt, throws light on many decisions. /1/ This
is, that, where you have a bilateral contract, while the
consideration of each promise is the counter promise, yet prima
facie the payment for performance of one is performance of the
other. The performance of the other party is what each means to
have in return for his own. If A promises a barrel of flour to B,
and B promises him ten dollars for it, A means to have the ten
dollars for his flour, and B means to have the flour for his ten
dollars. If no time is set for either act, neither can call on
the other to perform without being ready at the same time
himself.

But this principle of equivalency is not the only principle to be
drawn even from the form of contracts, without considering their
subject-matter, and of course it is not offered as such in Mr.
Langdell's work.

Another very clear one is found in contracts for the sale or
lease of a thing, and the like. Here the qualities or
characteristics which the owner promises that the thing furnished
shall possess, go to describe the thing which the buyer promises
to accept. If any of the promised traits are wanting in the thing
tendered, the buyer may refuse to accept, not merely on the
ground that he has not [336] been offered the equivalent for
keeping his promise, but also on the ground that he never
promised to accept what is offered him. /1/ It has been seen
that, where the contract contains a statement touching the
condition of the thing at an earlier time than the moment for its
acceptance, the past condition may not always be held to enter
into the description of the thing to be accepted. But no such
escape is possible here. Nevertheless there are limits to the
right of refusal even in the present class of cases. If the thing
promised is specific, the preponderance of that part of the
description which identifies the object by reference to the
senses is sometimes strikingly illustrated. One case has gone so
far as to hold that performance of an executory contract to
purchase a specific thing cannot be refused because it fails to
come up to the warranted quality. /2/

Another principle of dependency to be drawn from the form of the
contract itself is, that performance of the promise on one side
may be manifestly intended to furnish the means for performing
the promise on the other. If a tenant should promise to make
repairs, and the landlord should promise to furnish him wood for
the purpose, it is believed that at the present day, whatever may
have been the old decisions, the tenant's duty to repair would be
dependent upon the landlord's furnishing the material when
required. /3/

[337] Another case of a somewhat exceptional kind is where a
party to a bilateral contract agrees to do certain things and to
give security for his performance. Here it is manifest good-sense
to hold giving the security a condition of performance on the
other side, if it be possible. For the requirement of security
shows that the party requiring it was not content to rely on the
simple promise of the other side, which he would be compelled to
do if he had to perform before the security was given, and thus
the very object of requiring it would be defeated. /1/

This last case suggests what is very forcibly impressed on any
one who studies the cases,--that, after all, the most important
element of decision is not any technical, or even any general
principle of contracts, but a consideration of the nature of the
particular transaction as a practical matter. A promises B to do
a day's work for two dollars, and B promises A to pay two
dollars for a day's work. There the two promises cannot be
performed at the same time. The work will take all day, the
payment half a minute. How are you to decide which is to be done
first, that is to say, which promise is dependent upon
performance on the other side? It is only by reference to the
habits of the community and to convenience. It is not enough to
say that on the principle of equivalency a man is not presumed
to intend to pay for a thing until he has it. The work is
payment for the money, as much as the [338] money for the work,
and one must be paid in advance. The question is, why, if one
man is not presumed to intend to pay money until he has money's
worth, the other is presumed to intend to give money's worth
before he has money. An answer cannot be obtained from any
general theory. The fact that employers, as a class, can be
trusted for wages more safely than the employed for their labor,
that the employers have had the power and have been the law-makers,
or other considerations, it matters not what, have determined
that the work is to be done first. But the grounds of
decision are purely practical, and can never be elicited from
grammar or from logic.

A reference to practical considerations will be found to run all
through the subject. Take another instance. The plaintiff
declared on a mutual agreement between himself and the defendant
that he would sell, and the defendant would buy, certain Donskoy
wool, to be shipped by the plaintiff at Odessa, and delivered in
England. Among the stipulations of the contract was one, that the
names of the vessels should be declared as soon as the wools were
shipped. The defence was, that the wool was bought, with the
knowledge of both parties, for the purpose of reselling it in the
course of the defendant's business; that it was an article of
fluctuating value, and not salable until the names of the vessels
in which it was shipped should have been declared according to
the contract, but that the plaintiff did not declare the names of
the vessels as agreed. The decision of the court was given by one
of the greatest technical lawyers that ever lived, Baron Parke;
yet he did not dream of giving any technical or merely logical
reason for the decision, but, after stating in the above words
the facts which were deemed material to the question [339]
whether declaring the names of the vessels was a condition to the
duty to accept, stated the ground of decision thus: "Looking at
the nature of the contract, and the great importance of it to the
object with which the contract was entered into with the
knowledge of both parties, we think it was a condition
precedent." /1/

[340]




LECTURE X. -- SUCCESSIONS AFTER DEATH.

In the Lecture on Possession, I tried to show that the notion of
possessing a right as such was intrinsically absurd. All rights
are consequences attached to filling some situation of fact. A
right which may be acquired by possession differs from others
simply in being attached to a situation of such a nature that it
may be filled successively by different persons, or by any one
without regard to the lawfulness of his doing so, as is the case
where the situation consists in having a tangible object within
one's power.

When a right of this sort is recognized by the law, there is no
difficulty in transferring it; or, more accurately, there is no
difficulty in different persons successively enjoying similar
rights in respect of the subject-matter. If A, being the
possessor of a horse or a field, gives up the possession to B,
the rights which B acquires stand on the same ground as A's did
before. The facts from which A's rights sprang have ceased to be
true of A, and are now true of B. The consequences attached by
the law to those facts now exist for B, as they did for A before.
The situation of fact from which the rights spring is continuing
one, and any one who occupies it, no matter how, has the rights
attached to it. But there is no possession possible of a
contract. The [341] fact that a consideration was given yesterday
by A to B, and a promise received in return, cannot be laid hold
of by X, and transferred from A to himself. The only thing can be
transferred is the benefit or burden of the promise, and how can
they be separated from the facts which gave rise to them? How, in
short, can a man sue or be sued on a promise in which he had no
part?

Hitherto it has been assumed, in dealing with any special right
or obligation, that the facts from which it sprung were true of
the individual entitled or bound. But it often happens,
especially in modern law, that a person acquires and is allowed
to enforce a special right, although that facts which give rise
to it are not true of him, or are true of him only in part. One
of the chief problems of the law is to explain the machinery by
which this result has been brought to pass.

It will be observed that the problem is not coextensive with the
whole field of rights. Some rights cannot be transferred by any
device or contrivance; for instance, a man's right a to bodily
safety or reputation. Others again are incident to possession,
and within the limits of that conception no other is necessary.
As Savigny said, "Succession does not apply to possession by
itself." /1/

But the notion of possession will carry us but a very little way
in our understanding of the modern theory of transfer. That
theory depends very largely upon the notion of succession, to use
the word just quoted from Savigny, and accordingly successions
will be the subject of this and the following Lecture. I shall
begin by explaining the theory of succession to persons deceased,
and after that is done shall pass to the theory of transfer
between living [342] people, and shall consider whether any
relation can be established between the two.

The former is easily shown to be founded upon a fictitious
identification between the deceased and his successor. And as a
first step to the further discussion, as well as for its own
sake, I shall briefly state the evidence touching the executor,
the heir, and the devisee. In order to understand the theory of
our law with regard to the first of these, at least, scholars are
agreed that it is necessary to consider the structure and
position of the Roman family as it was in the infancy of Roman
society.

Continental jurists have long been collecting the evidence that,
in the earlier periods of Roman and German law alike, the unit of
society was the family. The Twelve Tables of Rome still recognize
the interest of the inferior members of the family in the family
property. Heirs are called sui heredes, that is, heirs of
themselves or of their own property, as is explained by Gaius.
/1/ Paulus says that they are regarded as owners in a certain
sense, even in the lifetime of their father, and that after his
death they do not so much receive an inheritance as obtain the
full power of dealing with their property. /2/

Starting from this point it is easy to understand the [343]
succession of heirs to a deceased paterfamilias in the Roman
system. If the family was the owner of the property administered
by a paterfamilias, its rights remained unaffected by the death
of its temporary head. The family continued, although the head
died. And when, probably by a gradual change, /1/ the
paterfamilias came to be regarded as owner, instead of a simple
manager of the family rights, the nature and continuity of those
rights did not change with the title to them. The familia
continued to the heirs as it was left by the ancestor. The heir
succeeded not to the ownership of this or that thing separately,
but to the total hereditas or headship of the family with certain
rights of property as incident, /2/ and of course he took this
headship, or right of representing the family interests, subject
to the modifications effected by the last manager.

The aggregate of the ancestor's rights and duties, or, to use the
technical phrase, the total persona sustained by him, was easily
separated from his natural personality. For this persona was but
the aggregate of what had formerly been family rights and duties,
and was originally sustained by any individual only as the family
head. Hence it was said to be continued by the inheritance, /3/
and when the heir assumed it he had his action in respect of
injuries previously committed. /4/

Thus the Roman heir came to be treated as identified with his
ancestor for the purposes of the law. And thus it is clear how
the impossible transfers which I seek to explain were
accomplished in that instance. Rights to which B [344] as B could
show no title, he could readily maintain under the fiction that
he was the same person as A, whose title was not denied.

It is not necessary at this point to study family rights in the
German tribes. For it is not disputed that the modern executor
derives his characteristics from the Roman heir. Wills also were
borrowed from Rome, and were unknown to the Germans of Tacitus.
/1/ Administrators were a later imitation of executors,
introduced by statute for cases where there was no will, or
where, for any other reason, executors were wanting.

The executor has the legal title to the whole of the testator's
personal estate, and, generally speaking, the power of
alienation. Formerly he was entitled to the undistributed
residue, not, it may fairly be conjectured, as legatee of those
specific chattels, but because he represented the person of the
testator, and therefore had all the rights which the testator
would have had after distribution if alive. The residue is
nowadays generally bequeathed by the will, but it is not even now
regarded as a specific gift of the chattels remaining undisposed
of, and I cannot help thinking that this doctrine echoes that
under which the executor took in former times.

No such rule has governed residuary devises of real estate, which
have always been held to be specific in England down to the
present day. So that, if a devise of land should fail, that land
would not be disposed of by the residuary clause, but would
descend to the heir as if there had been no will.

Again, the appointment of an executor relates back to the date of
the testator's death. The continuity of person [345] is preserved
by this fiction, as in Rome it was by personifying the
inheritance ad interim.

Enough has been said to show the likeness between our executor
and the Roman heir. And bearing in mind what was said about the
heres, it will easily be seen how it came to be said, as it often
was in the old books, that the executor "represents the person of
his testator." /1/ The meaning of this feigned identity has been
found in history, but the aid which it furnished in overcoming a
technical difficulty must also be appreciated. If the executor
represents the person of the testator, there is no longer any
trouble in allowing him to sue or be sued on his testator's
contracts. In the time of Edward III., when an action of covenant
was brought against executors, Persay objected: "I never heard
that one should have a writ of covenant against executors, nor
against other person but the very one who made the covenant, for
a man cannot oblige another person to a covenant by his deed
except him who was party to the covenant." /2/ But it is useless
to object that the promise sued upon was made by A, the testator,
not by B, the executor, when the law says that for this purpose B
is A. Here then is one class of cases in which a transfer is
accomplished by the help of a fiction, which shadows, as fictions
so often do, the facts of an early stage of society, and which
could hardly have been invented had these facts been otherwise.

Executors and administrators afford the chief, if not the only,
example of universal succession in the English [346] law. But
although they succeed per universitatem, as has been explained,
they do not succeed to all kinds of property. The personal estate
goes to them, but land takes another course. All real estate not
disposed of by will goes to the heir, and the rules of
inheritance are quite distinct from those which govern the
distribution of chattels. Accordingly, the question arises
whether the English heir or successor to real estate presents the
same analogies to the Roman heres as the executor.

The English heir is not a universal successor. Each and every
parcel of land descends as a separate and specific thing.
Nevertheless, in his narrower sphere he unquestionably represents
the person of his ancestor. Different opinions have been held as
to whether the same thing was true in early German law. Dr.
Laband says that it was; /1/ Sohm takes the opposite view. /2/ It
is commonly supposed that family ownership, at least of land,
came before that of individuals in the German tribes, and it has
been shown how naturally representation followed from a similar
state of things in Rome. But it is needless to consider whether
our law on this subject is of German or Roman origin, as the
principle of identification has clearly prevailed from the time
of Glanvill to the present day. If it was not known to the
Germans, it is plainly accounted for by the influence of the
Roman law. If there was anything of the sort in the Salic law, it
was no doubt due to natural causes similar to those which gave
rise to the principle at Rome. But in either event I cannot doubt
that the modern doctrine has taken a good deal of its form, and
perhaps some of its substance, from the mature system [347] of
the civilians, in whose language it was so long expressed. For
the same reasons that have just been mentioned, it is also
needless to weigh the evidence of the Anglo-Saxon sources,
although it seems tolerably clear from several passages in the
laws that there was some identification. /1/

As late as Bracton, two centuries after the Norman conquest, the
heir was not the successor to lands alone, but represented his
ancestor in a much more general sense, as will be seen directly.
The office of executor, in the sense of heir, was unknown to the
Anglo-Saxons, /2/ and even in Bracton's time does not seem to
have been what it has since become. There is, therefore, no need
to go back further than to the early Norman period, after the
appointment of executors had become common, and the heir was more
nearly what he is now.

When Glanvill wrote, a little more than a century after the
Conquest, the heir was bound to warrant the reasonable gifts of
his ancestor to the grantees and their heirs; /3/ and if the
effects of the ancestor were insufficient to pay his debts, the
heir was bound to make up the deficiency from his own property.
/4/ Neither Glanvill nor his Scotch imitator, the Regiam
Majestatem, /5/ limits the liability to the amount of property
inherited from the same source. This makes the identification of
heir and ancestor as complete as that of the Roman law before
such a limitation was introduced by Justinian. On the other hand,
a century [348] later, it distinctly appears from Bracton, /1/
that the heir was only bound so far as property had descended to
him, and in the early sources of the Continent, Norman as well as
other, the same limitation appears. /2/ The liabilities of the
heir were probably shrinking. Britton and Fleta, the imitators of
Bracton, and perhaps Bracton himself, say that an heir is not
bound to pay his ancestor's debt, unless he be thereto especially
bound by the deed of his ancestor. /3/ The later law required
that the heir should be mentioned if he was to be held.

But at all events the identification of heir and ancestor still
approached the nature of a universal succession in the time of
Bracton, as is shown by another statement of his. He asks if the
testator can bequeath his rights of action, and answers, No, so
far as concerns debts not proved and recovered in the testator's
life. But actions of that sort belong to the heirs, and must be
sued in the secular court; for before they are so recovered in
the proper court, the executor cannot proceed for them in the
ecclesiastical tribunal. /4/

This shows that the identification worked both ways. The heir was
liable for the debts due from his ancestor, and he could recover
those which were due to him, until [349] the executor took his
place in the King's Courts, as well as in those of the Church.
Within the limits just explained the heir was also bound to
warrant property sold by his ancestor to the purchaser and his
heirs. /1/ It is not necessary, after this evidence that the
modern heir began by representing his ancestor generally, to seek
for expressions in later books, since his position has been
limited. But just as we have seen that the executor is still said
to represent the person of his testator, the heir was said to
represent the person of his ancestor in the time of Edward I. /2/
So, at a much later date, it was said that "the heir is in
representation in point of taking by inheritance eadam persona
cum antecessore," /3/ the same persona as his ancestor.

A great judge, who died but a few years ago, repeats language
which would have been equally familiar to the lawyers of Edward
or of James. Baron Parke, after laying down that in general a
party is not required to make profert of an instrument to the
possession of which he is not entitled, says that there is an
exception "in the cases of heir and executor, who may plead a
release to the ancestor or testator whom they respectively
represent; so also with respect to several tortfeasors, for in
all these cases there is a privity between the parties which
constitutes an identity of person." /4/

But this is not all. The identity of person was carried [350]
farther still. If a man died leaving male children, and owning
land in fee, it went to the oldest son alone; but, if he left
only daughters, it descended to them all equally. In this case
several individuals together continued the persona of their
ancestor. But it was always laid down that they were but one
heir. /1/ For the purpose of working out this result, not only
was one person identified with another, but several persons were
reduced to one, that they might sustain a single persona.

What was the persona? It was not the sum of all the rights and
duties of the ancestor. It has been seen that for many centuries
his general status, the sum of all his rights and duties except
those connected with real property, has been taken up by the
executor or administrator. The persona continued by the heir was
from an early day confined to real estate in its technical sense;
that is, to property subject to feudal principles, as
distinguished from chattels, which, as Blackstone tells us, /2/
include whatever was not a feud.

But the heir's persona was not even the sum of all the ancestor's
rights and duties in connection with real estate. It has been
said already that every fee descends specifically, and not as
incident to a larger universitas. This appears not so much from
the fact that the rules of descent governing different parcels
might be different, /3/ so that the same person would not be heir
to both, as from the very nature of feudal property. Under the
feudal system in its vigor, the holding of land was only one
[351] incident of a complex personal relation. The land was
forfeited for a failure to render the services for which it was
granted; the service could be renounced for a breach of
correlative duties on the part of the lord. /1/ It rather seems
that, in the beginning of the feudal period under Charlemagne, a
man could only hold land of one lord. /2/ Even when it had become
common to hold of more than one, the strict personal relation was
only modified so far as to save the tenant from having to perform
inconsistent services. Glanvill and Bracton /3/ a tell us that a
tenant holding of several lords was to do homage for each fee,
but to reserve his allegiance for the lord of whom he held his
chief estate; but that, if the different lords should make war
upon each other, and the chief lord should command the tenant to
obey him in person, the tenant ought to obey, saving the service
due to the other lord for the fee held of him.

We see, then, that the tenant had a distinct persona or status in
respect of each of the fees which he held. The rights and duties
incident to one of them had no relation to the rights and duties
incident to another. A succession to one had no connection with
the succession to another. Each succession was the assumption of
a distinct personal relation, in which the successor was to be
determined by the terms of the relation in question.

The persona which we are seeking to define is the estate. Every
fee is a distinct persona, a distinct hereditas, or inheritance,
as it has been called since the time of Bracton. We have already
seen that it may be sustained by more [352] than one where there
are several heirs, as well as by one, just as a corporation may
have more or less members. But not only may it be divided
lengthwise, so to speak, among persons interested in the same way
at the same time: it may also be cut across into successive
interests, to be enjoyed one after another. In technical
language, it may be divided into a particular estate and
remainders. But they are all parts of the same fee, and the same
fiction still governs them. We read in an old case that "he in
reversion and particular tenant are but one tenant." /1/ This is
only a statement of counsel, to be sure; but it is made to
account for a doctrine which seems to need the explanation, to
the effect that, after the death of the tenant for life, he in
reversion might have error or attaint on an erroneous judgment or
false verdict given against the tenant for life. /2/

To sum up the results so far, the heir of modern English law gets
his characteristic features from the law as it stood soon after
the Conquest. At that time he was a universal successor in a very
broad sense. Many of his functions as such were soon transferred
to the executor. The heir's rights became confined to real
estate, and his liabilities to those connected with real estate,
and to obligations of his ancestor expressly binding him. The
succession to each fee or feudal inheritance is distinct, not
part of the sum of all the ancestor's rights regarded as one
whole. But to this day the executor in his sphere, and the heir
in his, represent the person of the deceased, and are treated as
if they were one with him, for the purpose of settling their
rights and obligations.

The bearing which this has upon the contracts of the [353]
deceased has been pointed out. But its influence is not confined
to contract; it runs through everything. The most striking
instance, however, is the acquisition of prescriptive rights.
Take the case of a right of way. A right of way over a neighbor's
land can only be acquired by grant, or by using it adversely for
twenty years. A man uses a way for ten years, and dies. Then his
heir uses it ten years. Has any right been acquired? If common
sense alone is consulted, the answer must be no. The ancestor did
not get any right, because he did not use the way long enough.
And just as little did the heir. How can it better the heir's
title that another man had trespassed before him? Clearly, if
four strangers to each other used the way for five years each, no
right would be acquired by the last. But here comes in the
fiction which has been so carefully explained. From the point of
view of the law it is not two persons who have used the way for
ten years each, but one who has used it for twenty. The heir has
the advantage of sustaining his ancestor's and the right is
acquired.




LECTURE X. -- SUCCESSIONS INTER VIVOS

I now reach the most difficult and obscure part of the subject.
It remains to be discovered whether the fiction of identity was
extended to others besides the heir and executor. And if we find,
as we do, that it went but little farther in express terms, the
question will still arise whether the mode of thought and the
conceptions made possible by the doctrine of inheritance have not
silently modified the law as to dealings between the living. It
seems to me demonstrable that their influence has been profound,
and that, without understanding the theory of inheritance, it is
impossible to understand the theory of transfer inter vivos.

[354] The difficulty in dealing with the subject is to convince
the sceptic that there is anything to explain. Nowadays, the
notion that a right is valuable is almost identical with the
notion that it may be turned into money by selling it. But it was
not always so. Before you can sell a right, you must be able to
make a sale thinkable in legal terms. I put the case of the
transfer of a contract at the beginning of the Lecture. I have
just mentioned the case of gaining a right by prescription, when
neither party has complied with the requirement of twenty years'
adverse use. In the latter instance, there is not even a right at
the time of the transfer, but a mere fact of ten years' past
trespassing. A way, until it becomes a right of way, is just as
little susceptible of being held by a possessory title as a
contract. If then a contract can be sold, if a buyer can add the
time of his seller's adverse user to his own, what is the
machinery by which the law works out the result?

The most superficial acquaintance with any system of law in its
earlier stages will show with what difficulty and by what slow
degrees such machinery has been provided, and how the want of it
has restricted the sphere of alienation. It is a great mistake to
assume that it is a mere matter of common sense that the buyer
steps into the shoes of the seller, according to our significant
metaphor. Suppose that sales and other civil transfers had kept
the form of warlike capture which it seems that they had in the
infancy of Roman law, /1/ and which was at least [355] partially
retained in one instance, the acquisition of wives, after the
transaction had, in fact, taken the more civilized shape of
purchase. The notion that the buyer came in adversely to the
seller would probably have accompanied the fiction of adverse
taking, and he would have stood on his own position as founding a
new title. Without the aid of conceptions derived from some other
source, it would have been hard to work out a legal transfer of
objects which did not admit of possession.

A possible source of such other conceptions was to be found in
family law. The principles of inheritance furnished a fiction and
a mode of thought which at least might have been extended into
other spheres. In order to prove that they were in fact so
extended, it will be necessary to examine once more the law of
Rome, as well as the remains of German and Anglo-Saxon customs.

I will take up first the German and Anglo-Saxon laws which are
the ancestors of our own on one side of the house. For although
what we get from those sources is not in the direct line of the
argument, it lays a foundation for it by showing the course of
development in different fields.

The obvious analogy between purchaser and heir seems to have been
used in the folk-laws, but mainly for another purpose than those
which will have to be considered in the English law. This was to
enlarge the sphere of alienability. It will be remembered that
there are many traces of family ownership in early German, as
well as in early Roman law; and it would seem that the transfer
[356] of property which originally could not be given outside the
family, was worked out through the form of making the grantee an
heir.

The history of language points to this conclusion. Heres, as
Beseler /1/ and others have remarked, from meaning a successor to
the property of a person deceased, was extended to the donee
mortis causa, and even more broadly to grantees in general.
Hereditare was used in like manner for the transfer of land.
Hevin is quoted by Laferriere /2/ as calling attention to the
fact that the ancient usage was to say heriter for purchase,
heritier for purchaser, and desheriter for sell.

The texts of the Salic law give us incontrovertible evidence. A
man might transfer the whole or any part of his property /3/ by
delivering possession of it to a trustee who, within twelve
months, handed it over to the beneficiaries. /4/ To those, the
text reads, whom the donor has named heredes (quos heredes
appellavit). Here then was a voluntary transfer of more or less
property at pleasure to persons freely chosen, who were not
necessarily universal successors, if they ever were, and who
nevertheless took under the name heredes. The word, which must
have meant at first persons taking by descent, was extended to
persons taking by purchase. /5/ If the word became enlarged in
meaning, it is probably because the thought which it conveyed was
turned to new uses. The transaction seems [357] to have fallen
half-way between the institution of an heir and a sale. The later
law of the Ripuarian Franks treats it more distinctly from the
former point of view. It permits a man who has no sons to give
all his property to whomsoever he chooses, whether relatives or
strangers, as inheritance, either by way of adfathamire, as the
Salic form was called, or by writing or delivery. /1/

The Lombards had a similar transfer, in which the donee was not
only called heres, but was made liable like an heir for the debts
of the donor on receiving the property after the donor's death.
/2/2 By the Salic law a man who could not pay the wergeld was
allowed to transfer formally his house-lot, and with it the
liability. But the transfer was to the next of kin. /3/

The house-lot or family curtilage at first devolved strictly
within the limits of the family. Here again, at least in England,
freedom of alienation seems to have grown up by gradually
increased latitude in the choice of successors. If we may trust
the order of development to be noticed in the early charters,
which it is hard to believe [358] accidental, although the
charters are few, royal grants at first permitted an election of
heirs among the kindred, and then extended it beyond them. In a
deed of the year 679, the language is, "as it is granted so do
you hold it and your posterity." One a century later reads,
"which let him always possess, and after his death leave to which
of his heirs he will." Another, "and after him with free power
(of choice) leave to the man of his kin to whom he wishes to"
(leave it). A somewhat earlier charter of 736 goes a step
further: "So that as long as he lives he shall have the power of
holding and possessing (and) of leaving it to whomsoever he
choose, either in his lifetime, or certainly after his death." At
the beginning of the ninth century the donee has power to leave
the property to whomsoever he will, or, in still broader terms,
to exchange or grant in his lifetime, and after his death to
leave it to whom he chooses,--or to sell, exchange, and leave to
whatsoever heir he chooses. /1/ This choice of heirs [359]
recalls the quos heredes appellavit of the Salic law just
mentioned, and may be compared with the language of a Norman
charter of about the year 1190: "To W. and his heirs, to wit
those whom he may constitute his heirs." /1/

A perfect example of a singular succession worked out by the
fiction of kinship is to be found in the story of Burnt Njal, an
Icelandic saga, which gives us a living picture of a society
hardly more advanced than the Salian Franks, as we see them in
the Lex Salica. A lawsuit was to be transferred by the proper
plaintiff to another more versed in the laws, and better able to
carry it on,--in fact, to an attorney. But a lawsuit was at that
time the alternative of a feud, and both were the peculiar affair
of the family concerned. /2/ Accordingly, when a suit for killing
a member of the family was to be handed over to a stranger, the
innovation had to be reconciled with the theory that such suit
belonged only to the next of kin. Mord is to take upon himself
Thorgeir's suit against Flosi for killing Helgi, and the form of
transfer is described as follows.

"Then Mord took Thorgeir by the hand and named two witnesses to
bear witness, 'that Thorgeir Thofir's son hands me over a suit
for manslaughter against Flosi Thord's son, to plead it for the
slaying of Helgi Njal's son, with all those proofs which have to
follow the suit. Thou handest over to me this suit to plead and
to settle, and to enjoy all rights in it, as though I were the
rightful next of kin. Thou handest it over to me by law; and I
[360] take it from thee by law.'" Afterwards, these witnesses
come before the court, and bear witness to the transfer in like
words: "He handed over to him then this suit, with all the proofs
and proceedings which belonged to the suit, he handed it over to
him to plead and to settle, and to make use of all rights, as
though he were the rightful next of kin. Thorgeir handed it over
lawfully, and Mord took it lawfully." The suit went on,
notwithstanding the change of hands, as if the next of kin were
plaintiff. This is shown by a further step in the proceedings.
The defendant challenges two of the court, on the ground of their
connection with Mord, the transferee, by blood and by baptism.
But Mord replies that this is no good challenge; for "he
challenged them not for their kinship to the true plaintiff, the
next of kin, but for their kinship to him who pleaded the suit."
And the other side had to admit that Mord was right in his law.

I now turn from the German to the Roman sources. These have the
closest connection with the argument, because much of the
doctrine to be found there has been transplanted unchanged into
modern law.

The early Roman law only recognized as relatives those who would
have been members of the same patriarchal family, and under the
same patriarchal authority, had the common ancestor survived. As
wives passed into the families of their husbands, and lost all
connection with that in which they were born, relationship
through females was altogether excluded. The heir was one who
traced his relationship to the deceased through males alone. With
the advance of civilization this rule was changed. The praetor
gave the benefits of the inheritance to the blood relations,
although they were not heirs, and could [361] not be admitted to
the succession according to the ancient law. /1/ But the change
was not brought about by repealing the old law, which still
subsisted under the name of the jus civile. The new principle was
accommodated to the old forms by a fiction. The blood relation
could sue on the fiction that he was an heir, although he was not
one in fact. /2/

One the early forms of instituting an heir was a sale of the
familia or headship of the family to the intended heir, with all
its rights and duties. /3/ This sale of the universitas was
afterwards extended beyond the case of inheritance to that of
bankruptcy, when it was desired to put the bankrupt's property
into the hands of a trustee for distribution. This trustee also
could make use of the fiction, and sue as if he had been the
bankrupt's heir. /4/ We are told by one of the great
jurisconsults that in general universal successors stand in the
place of heirs. /5/

The Roman heir, with one or two exceptions, was always a
universal successor; and the fiction of heirship, as such, could
hardly be used with propriety except to enlarge the sphere of
universal successions. So far as it extended, however, all the
consequences attached to the original fiction of identity between
heir and ancestor followed as of course.

[362] To recur to the case of rights acquired by prescription,
every universal successor could add the time of his predecessor's
adverse use to his own in order to make out the right. There was
no addition, legally speaking, but one continuous possession.

The express fiction of inheritance perhaps stopped here. But when
a similar joinder of times was allowed between a legatee or
devisee (legatarius) and his testator, the same explanation was
offered. It was said, that, when a specific thing was left to a
person by will, so far as concerned having the benefit of the
time during which the testator had been in possession for the
purpose of acquiring a title, the legatee was in a certain sense
quasi an heir. /1/ Yet a legatarius was not a universal
successor, and for most purposes stood in marked contrast with
such successors. /2/

Thus the strict law of inheritance had made the notion familiar
that one man might have the advantage of a position filled by
another, although it was not filled, or was only partially
filled, by himself; and the second fiction, by which the
privileges of a legal heir in this respect as well as others had
been extended to other persons, broke down the walls which might
otherwise have confined those privileges to a single case. A new
conception was introduced into the law, and there was nothing to
hinder its further application. As has been shown, it was applied
in terms to a sale of the universitas for business purposes, and
to at least one case where the succession was confined to a
single specific thing. Why, then, might not every gift or sale be
regarded as a succession, so far as to insure the same
advantages?

[363] The joinder of times to make out a title was soon allowed
between buyer and seller, and I have no doubt, from the language
always used by the Roman lawyers, that it was arrived at in the
way I have suggested. A passage from Scaevola (B. C. 30) will
furnish sufficient proof. Joinder of possessions, he says, that
is, the right to add the time of one's predecessor's holding to
one's own, clearly belongs to those who succeed to the place of
others, whether by contract or by will: for heirs and those who
are treated as holding the place of successors are allowed to add
their testator's possession to their own. Accordingly, if you
sell me a slave I shall have the benefit of your holding. /1/

The joinder of times is given to those who succeed to the place
of another. Ulpian cites a like phrase from a jurisconsult of the
time of the Antonines,--"to whose place I have succeeded by
inheritance, or purchase, or any other right." /2/ Succedere in
locum aliorum, like sustinere personam, is an expression of the
Roman lawyers for those continuations of one man's legal position
by another of which the type was the succession of heir to
ancestor. Suecedere alone is used in the sense of inherit, /3/
and successio in that of "inheritance." /4/ The succession par
excellence was the inheritance; and it is believed that scarcely
any instance will be found in the Roman sources where
"succession" does not convey that analogy, and indicate the
partial [364] assumption, at least, of a persona formerly
sustained by another. It clearly does so in the passage before
us.

But the succession which admits a joinder of times is not
hereditary succession alone. In the passage which has been cited
Scaevola says that it may be by contract or purchase, as well as
by inheritance or will. It may be singular, as well as universal.
The jurists often mention antithetically universal successions
and those confined to a single specific thing. Ulpian says that a
man succeeds to another's place, whether his succession be
universal or to the single object. /1/

If further evidence were wanting for the present argument, it
would be found in another expression of Ulpian's. He speaks of
the benefit of joinder as derived from the persona of the
grantor. "He to whom a thing is granted shall have the benefit of
joinder from the persona of his grantor." /2/ A benefit cannot be
derived from a persona except by sustaining it.

It farther appears pretty plainly from Justinian's Institutes and
the Digest, that the benefit was not extended to purchasers in
all cases until a pretty late period. /3/

Savigny very nearly expressed the truth when he said, somewhat
broadly, that "every accessio, for whatever purpose, presupposes
nothing else than a relation of juridical [365] succession
between the previous and present possessor. For succession does
not apply to possession by itself." /1/ And I may add, by way of
further explanation, that every relation of juridical succession
presupposes either an inheritance or a relation to which, so far
as it extends, the analogies of the inheritance may be applied.

The way of thinking which led to the accessio or joinder of times
is equally visible in other cases. The time during which a former
owner did not use an casement was imputed to the person who had
succeeded to his place. /2/ The defence that the plaintiff had
sold and delivered the thing in controversy was available not
only to the purchaser, but to his heirs or to a second purchaser,
even before delivery to him, against the successors of the
seller, whether universal or only to the thing in question. /3/
If one used a way wrongfully as against the predecessor in title,
it was wrongful as against the successor, whether by inheritance,
purchase, or any other right. /4/ The formal oath of a party to
an action was conclusive in favor of his successors, universal or
singular. /5/ Successors by purchase or gift had the [366]
benefit of agreements made with the vendor. /1/ A multitude of
general expressions show that for most purposes, whether of
action or defence, the buyer stood in the shoes of the seller, to
use the metaphor of our own law. /2/ And what is more important
than the result, which often might have been reached by other
ways, the language and analogies are drawn throughout from the
succession to the inheritance.

Thus understood, there could not have been a succession between a
person dispossessed of a thing against his will and the wrongful
possessor. Without the element of consent there is no room for
the analogy just explained. Accordingly, it is laid down that
there is no joinder of times when the possession is wrongful, /3/
and the only enumerated means of succeeding in rem are by will,
sale, gift, or some other right.

The argument now returns to the English law, fortified with some
general conclusions. It has been shown that in both the systems
from whose union our law arose the rules governing conveyance, or
the transfer of specific [367] objects between living persons,
were deeply affected by notions drawn from inheritance. It had
been shown previously that in England the principles of
inheritance applied directly to the singular succession of the
heir to a specific fee, as well as to the universal succession of
the executor. It would be remarkable, considering their history,
if the same principles had not affected other singular
successions also. It will soon appear that they have. And not to
be too careful about the order of proof, I will first take up the
joinder of times in prescription, as that has just been so fully
discussed. The English law of the subject is found on examination
to be the same as the Roman in extent, reason, and expression. It
is indeed largely copied from that source. For servitudes, such
as rights of way, light, and the like, form the chief class of
prescriptive rights, and our law of servitudes is mainly Roman.
Prescriptions, it is said, "are properly personal, and therefore
are always alleged in the person of him who prescribes, viz. that
he and all those whose estate he hath, &c.; therefore, a bishop
or a parson may prescribe,... for there is a perpetual estate,
and a perpetual succession and the successor hath the very same
estate which his predecessor had, for that continues, though the
person alters, like the case of the ancestor and the heir." /1/
So in a modern case, where by statute twenty years' dispossession
extinguished the owner's title, the Court of Queen's Bench said
that probably the right would be transferred to the possessor "if
the same person, or several persons, claiming one from the other
by descent, will [368] or conveyance, had been in possession for
the twenty years." "But.... such twenty years' possession must
be either by the same person, or several persons claiming one
from the other, which is not the case here." /1/

In a word, it is equally clear that the continuous possession of
privies in title, or, in Roman phrase, successors, has all the
effect of the continuous possession of one, and that such an
effect is not attributed to the continuous possession of
different persons who are not in the same chain of title. One who
dispossesses another of land cannot add the time during which his
disseisee has used a way to the period of his own use, while one
who purchased can. /2/

The authorities which have been quoted make it plain that the
English law proceeds on the same theory as the Roman. One who
buys land of another gets the very same estate which his seller
had. He is in of the same fee, or hereditas, which means, as I
have shown, that he sustains the same persona. On the other hand,
one who wrongfully dispossesses another,--a disseisor,--gets a
different estate, is in of a new fee, although the land is the
same; and much technical reasoning is based upon this doctrine.

In the matter of prescription, therefore, buyer and seller were
identified, like heir and ancestor. But the question [369]
remains whether this identification bore fruit in other parts of
the law also, or whether it was confined to one particular
branch, where the Roman law was grafted upon the English stock.

There can be no doubt which answer is most probable, but it
cannot be proved without difficulty. As has been said, the heir
ceased to be the general representative of his ancestor at an
early date. And the extent to which even he was identified came
to be a matter of discussion. Common sense kept control over
fiction here as elsewhere in the common law. But there can be no
doubt that in matters directly concerning the estate the
identification of heir and ancestor has continued to the present
day; and as an estate in fee simple has been shown to be a
distinct persona, we should expect to find a similar
identification of buyer and seller in this part of the law, if
anywhere.

Where the land was devised by will, the analogy applied with
peculiar ease. For although there is no difference in principle
between a devise of a piece of land by will and a conveyance of
it by deed, the dramatic resemblance of a devisee to an heir is
stronger than that of a grantee. It will be remembered that one
of the Roman jurists said that a legatarius (legatee or devisee)
was in a certain sense quasi heres. The English courts have
occasionally used similar expressions. In a case where a testator
owned a rent, and divided it by will among his sons, and then one
of the sons brought debt for his part, two of the judges, while
admitting that the testator could not have divided the tenant's
liability by a grant or deed in his lifetime, thought that it was
otherwise with regard to a division by will. Their reasoning was
that "the devise is quasi [370] an act of law, which shall inure
without attornment, and shall make a sufficient privity, and so
it may well be apportioned by this means." /1/ So it was said by
Lord Ellenborough, in a case where a lessor and his heirs were
entitled to terminate a lease on notice, that a devisee of the
land as heres factus would be understood to have the same right.
/2/

But wills of land were only exceptionally allowed by custom until
the reign of Henry VIII., and as the main doctrines of
conveyancing had been settled long before that time, we must look
further back and to other sources for their explanation. We shall
find it in the history of warranty. This, and the modern law of
covenants running with the land, will be treated in the next
Lecture.

[371]




LECTURE XI. -- SUCCESSIONS.--II. INTER VIVOS.

The principal contracts known to the common law and suable in the
King's Courts, a century after the Conquest, were suretyship and
debt. The heir, as the general representative of his ancestor's
rights and obligations, was liable for his debts, and was the
proper person to sue for those which were due the estate. By the
time of Edward III. this had changed. Debts had ceased to concern
the heir except secondarily. The executor took his place both for
collection and payment. It is said that even when the heir was
bound he could not be sued except in case the executor had no
assets. /1/

But there was another ancient obligation which had a different
history. I refer to the warranty which arose upon the transfer of
property. We should call it a contract, but it probably presented
itself to the mind of Glanvill's predecessors simply as a duty or
obligation attached by law to a transaction which was directed to
a different point; just as the liability of a bailee, which is
now treated as arising from his undertaking, was originally
raised by the law out of the position in which he stood toward
third persons.

After the Conquest we do not hear much of warranty, except in
connection with land, and this fact will at once [372] account
for its having had a different history from debt. The obligation
of warranty was to defend the title, and, if the defence failed,
to give to the evicted owner other land of equal value. If an
ancestor had conveyed lands with warranty, this obligation could
not be fulfilled by his executor, but only by his heir, to whom
his other lands had descended. Conversely as to the benefit of
warranties made to a deceased grantee, his heir was the only
person interested to enforce such warranties, because the land
descended to him. Thus the heir continued to represent his
ancestor in the latter's rights and obligations by way of
warranty, after the executor had relieved him of the debts, just
as before that time he had represented his ancestor in all
respects.

If a man was sued for property which he had bought from another,
the regular course of litigation was for the defendant to summon
in his seller to take charge of the defence, and for him, in
turn, to summon in his, if he had one, and so on until a party
was reached in the chain of title who finally took the burden of
the case upon himself. A contrast which was early stated between
the Lombard and the Roman law existed equally between the
Anglo-Saxon and the Roman. It was said that the Lombard presents
his grantor, the Roman stands in his grantor's
shoes,--Langobardus dat auctorem, Romanus stat loco auctoris. /1/

Suppose, now, that A gave land to B, and B conveyed over to C. If
C was sued by D, claiming a better title, C practically got the
benefit of A's warranty, /2/ because, when he summoned B, B would
summon A, and thus A [373] would defend the case in the end. But
it might happen that between the time when B conveyed to C, and
the time when the action was begun, B had died. If he left an
heir, C might still be protected. But supposing B left no heir, C
got no help from A, who in the other event would have defended
his suit. This no doubt was the law in the Anglo-Saxon period,
but it was manifestly unsatisfactory. We may conjecture, with a
good deal of confidence, that a remedy would be found as soon as
there was machinery to make it possible. This was furnished by
the Roman law. According to that system, the buyer stood in the
place of his seller, and a fusion of the Roman with the
Anglo-Saxon rule was all that was needed.

Bracton, who modelled his book upon the writings of the mediaeval
civilians, shows how this thought was used. He first puts the
case of a conveyance with the usual clause binding the grantor
and his heirs to warrant and defend the grantee and his heirs. He
then goes on: "Again one may make his gift greater and make other
persons quasi heirs [of his grantee], although, in fact, they are
not heirs, as when he says in the gift, to have and to hold to
such a one and his heirs, or to whomsoever he shall choose to
give or assign the said land, and I and my heirs will warrant to
the said so and so, and his heirs, or to whomsoever he shall
choose to give or assign the said land, and their heirs, against
all persons. In which case if the grantee shall have given or
assigned the land, and then have died without heirs, the [first]
grantor and his heirs begin to hold the place of the first
grantee and his heirs, and are in place of the first grantee's
heir (pro herede) so far as concerns warranting to his assigns
and their heirs [374] according to the clause contained in the
first grantor's charter, which would not be but for the mention
of assigns in the first gift. But so long as the first grantee
survives, or his heirs, they are held to warranty, and not the
first grantor." /1/

Here we see that, in order to entitle the assign to the benefit
of the first grantor's warranty, assigns must be mentioned in the
original grant and covenant. The scope of the ancient obligation
was not extended without the warrantor's assent. But when it was
extended, it was not by a contrivance like a modern letter of
credit. Such a conception would have been impossible in that
stage of the law. By mentioning assigns the first grantor did not
offer a covenant to any person who would thereafter purchase the
land. If that had been the notion, there would have been a
contract directly binding the first grantor to the assign, as
soon as the land was sold, and thus there would have been two
warranties arising from the same clause,--one to the first
grantee, a second to the assign. But in fact the assign recovered
on the original warranty to the first grantee. /2/ He could only
come on the first grantor after a failure of his immediate
grantor's heirs. The first grantor by mentioning assigns simply
enlarged the limits of his grantee's succession. The assign could
vouch the first grantor only on the principles of succession.
That is to say, he could only do so when, by the failure of the
first grantee's blood, the first grantee's feudal relation to the
first grantor, his persona, came to be sustained by the assign.
/3/

[375] This was not only carrying out the fiction with technical
consistency, but was using it with good sense, as fictions
generally have been used in the English law. Practically it made
little difference whether the assign got the benefit of the first
grantor's warranty mediately or immediately, if he got it. The
trouble arose where he could not summon the mesne grantor, and
the new right was given him for that case alone. Later, the
assign did not have to wait for the failure of his immediate
grantor's blood, but could take advantage of the first grantor's
warranty from the beginning. /1/

If it should be suggested that what has been said goes to show
that the first grantor's duty to warrant arose from the assign's
becoming his man and owing homage, the answer is that he was not
bound unless he had mentioned assigns in his grant, homage or no
homage. In this Bracton is confirmed by all the later
authorities. /2/

Another rule on which there are vast stores of forgotten learning
will show how exactly the fiction fell in with the earlier law.
Only those who were privy in estate with the person to whom the
warranty was originally given, could vouch the original
warrantor. Looking back to the early [376] procedure, it will be
seen that of course only those in the same chain of title could
even mediately get the benefit of a former owner's warranty. The
ground on which a man was bound to warrant was that he had
conveyed the property to the person who summoned him. Hence a man
could summon no one but his grantor, and the successive vouchers
came to an end when the last vouchee could not call on another
from whom he had bought. Now when the process was abridged, no
persons were made liable to summons who would not have been
liable before. The present owner was allowed to vouch directly
those who otherwise would have been indirectly bound to defend
his title, but no others. Hence he could only summon those from
whom his grantor derived his title. But this was equally well
expressed in terms of the fiction employed. In order to vouch,
the present owner must have the estate of the person to whom the
warranty was made. As every lawyer knows, the estate does not
mean the land. It means the status or persona in regard to that
land formerly sustained by another. The same word was used in
alleging a right by prescription, "that he and those whose estate
he hath have for time whereof memory runneth not to the
contrary," &c.; and it will be remembered that the word
corresponds to the same requirement of succession there.

To return to Bracton, it must be understood that the description
of assigns as quasi heredes is not accidental. He describes them
in that way whenever he has occasion to speak of them. He even
pushes the reasoning drawn from the analogy of inheritance to
extremes, and refers to it in countless passages. For instance:
"It should be noted that of heirs some are true heirs and some
quasi [377] heirs, in place of heirs, &c.; true heirs by way of
succession quasi heirs, &c. by the form of the gift; such as
assigns," &c. /1/

If it should be suggested that Bracton's language is only a piece
of mediaeval scholasticism, there are several answers. In the
first place it is nearly contemporaneous with the first
appearance of the right in question. This is shown by his citing
authority for it as for something which might be disputed. He
says, "And that warranty must be made to assigns according to the
form of the gift is proved [by a case] in the circuit of W. de
Ralegh, about the end of the roll,"&c. /2/ It is not justifiable
to assume that a contemporary explanation of a new rule had
nothing to do with its appearance. Again, the fact is clear that
the assign got the benefit of the warranty to the first grantee,
not of a new one to himself, as has been shown, and Bracton's
explanation of how this was worked out falls in with what has
been seen of the course of the German and Anglo-Saxon law, and
with the pervading thought of the Roman law. Finally, and most
important, the requirement that the assign should be in of the
first grantee's estate has remained a requirement from that day
to this. The fact that the same thing is required in the same
words as in prescription goes far to show that the same technical
thought has governed both.

I have said, Glanvill's predecessors probably regarded warranty
as an obligation incident to a conveyance, rather than as a
contract. But when it became usual to insert the undertaking to
warrant in a deed or charter of feoffment, it lost something of
its former isolation as a duty standing by itself, and admitted
of being [378] generalized. It was a promise by deed, and a
promise by deed was a covenant. /1/ This was a covenant having
peculiar consequences attached to it, no doubt. It differed also
in the scope of its obligation from some other covenants, as will
be shown hereafter. But still it was a covenant, and could
sometimes be sued on as such. It was spoken of in the Year Books
of Edward III. as a covenant which "falls in the blood," /2/ as
distinguished from those where the acquittance fell on the land,
and not on the person. /3/

The importance of this circumstance lies in the working of the
law of warranty upon other covenants which took its place. When
the old actions for land gave way to more modern and speedier
forms, warrantors were no longer vouched in to defend, and if a
grantee was evicted, damages took the place of a grant of other
land. The ancient warranty disappeared, and was replaced by the
covenants which we still find in our deeds, including the
covenants for seisin, for right to convey, against incumbrances,
for quiet enjoyment, of warranty, and for further assurance. But
the principles on which an assign could have the benefit of these
covenants were derived from those which governed warranty, as any
one may see by looking at the earlier decisions.

For instance, the question, what was a sufficient assignment to
give an assign the benefit of a covenant for quiet enjoyment, was
argued and decided on the authority of the old cases of warranty.
/4/

[379] The assign, as in warranty, came in under the old covenant
with the first covenantee, not by any new right of his own. Thus,
in an action by an assign on a covenant for further assurance,
the defendant set up a release by the original covenantee after
the commencement of the suit. The court held that the assignee
should have the benefit of the covenant. "They held, that
although the breach was in the time of the assignee, yet if the
release had been by the covenantee (who is a party to the deed,
and from whom the plaintiff derives) before any breach, or before
the suit commenced, it had been a good bar to the assignee from
bringing this writ of covenant. But the breach of the covenant
being in the time of the assignee,... and the action brought by
him, and so attached in his person, the covenantee cannot release
this action wherein the assignee is interested." /1/ The
covenantee even after assignment remains the legal party to the
contract. The assign comes in under him, and does not put an end
to his control over it, until by breach and action a new right
attaches in the assign's person, distinct from the rights derived
from the persona of his grantor. Later, the assign got a more
independent standing, as the original foundation of his rights
sunk gradually out of sight, and a release after assignment
became ineffectual, at least in the case of a covenant to pay
rent. /2/

Only privies in estate with the original covenantee can have the
benefit of covenants for title. It has been shown that a similar
limitation of the benefits of the ancient [380] warranty was
required by its earlier history before the assign was allowed to
sue, and that the fiction by which he got that right could not
extend it beyond that limit. This analogy also was followed. For
instance, a tenant in tail male made a lease for years with
covenants of right to let and for quiet enjoyment, and then died
without issue male. The lessee assigned the lease to the
plaintiff. The latter was soon turned out, and thereupon brought
an action upon the covenant against the executor of the lessor.
It was held that he could not recover, because he was not privy
in estate with the original covenantee. For the lease, which was
the original covenantee's estate, was ended by the death of the
lessor and termination of the estate tail out of which the lease
was granted, before the form of assignment to the plaintiff. /1/

The only point remaining to make the analogy between covenants
for title and warranty complete was to require assigns to be
mentioned in order to enable them to sue. In modern times, of
course, such a requirement, if it should exist, would be purely
formal, and would be of no importance except as an ear-mark by
which to trace the history of a doctrine. It would aid our
studies if we could say that wherever assigns are to get the
benefit of a covenant as privies in estate with the covenantee,
they must be mentioned in the covenant. Whether such a
requirement does exist or not would be hard to tell from the
decisions alone. It is commonly supposed not to. But the popular
opinion on this trifling point springs from a failure to
understand one of the great antinomies of the law, which must now
be explained.

So far as we have gone, we have found that, wherever [381] one
party steps into the rights or obligations of another, without in
turn filling the situation of fact of which those rights or
obligations are the legal consequences, the substitution is
explained by a fictitious identification of the two individuals,
which is derived from the analogy of the inheritance. This
identification has been seen as it has been consciously worked
out in the creation of the executor, whose entire status is
governed by it. It has been seen still consciously applied in the
narrower sphere of the heir. It has been found hidden at the root
of the relation between buyer and seller in two cases at least,
prescription and warranty, when the history of that relation is
opened to a sufficient depth.

But although it would be more symmetrical if this analysis
exhausted the subject, there is another class of cases in which
the transfer of rights takes place upon a wholly different plan.
In explaining the succession which is worked out between buyer
and seller for the purpose of creating a prescriptive right, such
as a right of way over neighboring land to the land bought and
sold, it was shown that one who, instead of purchasing the land,
had wrongfully possessed himself of it by force, would not be
treated as a successor, and would get no benefit from the
previous use of the way by his disseisee. But when the former
possessor has already gained a right of way before he is turned
out, a new principle comes into operation. If the owner of the
land over which the way ran stopped it up, and was sued by the
wrongful possessor, a defence on the ground that the disseisor
had not succeeded to the former owner's rights would not prevail.
The disseisor would be protected in his possession of the land
against all but the rightful owner, and he would equally be
protected [382] in his use of the way. This rule of law does not
stand on a succession between the wrongful possessor and the
owner, which is out of the question. Neither can it be defended
on the same ground as the protection to the occupation of the
land itself. That ground is that the law defends possession
against everything except a better title. But, as has been said
before, the common law does not recognize possession of a way. A
man who has used a way ten years without title cannot sue even a
stranger for stopping it. He was a trespasser at the beginning,
he is nothing but a trespasser still. There must exist a right
against the servient owner before there is a right against
anybody else. At the same time it is clear that a way is no more
capable of possession because somebody else has a right to it,
than if no one had.

How comes it, then, that one who has neither title nor possession
is so far favored? The answer is to be found, not in reasoning,
but in a failure to reason. In the first Lecture of this course
the thought with which we have to deal was shown in its
theological stage, to borrow Comte's well-known phraseology, as
where an axe was made the object of criminal process; and also in
the metaphysical stage, where the language of personification
alone survived, but survived to cause confusion of reasoning. The
case put seems to be an illustration of the latter. The language
of the law of easements was built up out of similes drawn from
persons at a time when the noxoe deditio was still familiar; and
then, as often happens, language reacted upon thought, so that
conclusions were drawn as to the rights themselves from the terms
in which they happened to be expressed. When one estate was said
to be enslaved to another, or a right of way was said to be a
quality or [383] incident of a neighboring piece of land, men's
minds were not alert to see that these phrases were only so many
personifying metaphors, which explained nothing unless the figure
of speech was true.

Rogron deduced the negative nature of servitudes from the rule
that the land owes the services, not the person,--Proedium non
persona servit. For, said Rogron, the land alone being bound, it
can only be bound passively. Austin called this an "absurd
remark." /1/ But the jurists from whom we have inherited our law
of easements were contented with no better reasoning. Papinian
himself wrote that servitudes cannot be partially extinguished,
because they are due from lands, not persons. /2/ Celsus thus
decides the case which I took for my illustration: Even if
possession of a dominant estate is acquired by forcibly ejecting
the owner, the way will be retained; since the estate is
possessed in such quality and condition as it is when taken. /3/
The commentator Godefroi tersely adds that there are two such
conditions, slavery and freedom; and his antithesis is as old as
Cicero. /4/ So, in another passage, Celsus asks, What else are
the rights attaching to land but qualities of that land? /5/ So
Justinian's Institutes speak of servitudes which inhere in
buildings. /6/ So Paulus [384] speaks of such rights as being
accessory to bodies. "And thus," adds Godefroi, "rights may
belong to inanimate things." /1/ It easily followed from all this
that a sale of the dominant estate carried existing easements,
not because the buyer succeeded to the place of the seller, but
because land is bound to land. /2/

All these figures import that land is capable of having rights,
as Austin recognizes. Indeed, he even says that the land "is
erected into a legal or fictitious person, and is styled
'praedium dominans.'" /3/ But if this means anything more than to
explain what is implied by the Roman metaphors, it goes too far.
The dominant estate was never "erected into a legal person,"
either by conscious fiction or as a result of primitive beliefs.
/4/ It could not sue or be sued, like a ship in the admiralty. It
is not supposed that its possessor could maintain an action for
an interference with an easement before his time, as an heir
could for an injury to property of the hereditas jacens. If land
had even been systematically treated as capable of acquiring
rights, the time of a disseisee might have been added to that Of
the wrongful occupant, on the ground that the land, and not this
or that individual, was gaining the easement, and that long
association between the enjoyment of the privilege and the land
was sufficient, which has never been the law.

All that can be said is, that the metaphors and similes employed
naturally led to the rule which has prevailed, [385] and that, as
this rule was just as good as any other, or at least was
unobjectionable, it was drawn from the figures of speech without
attracting attention, and before any one had seen that they were
only figures, which proved nothing and justified no conclusion.

As easements were said to belong to the dominant estate, it
followed that whoever possessed the land had a right of the same
degree over what was incidental to it. If the true meaning had
been that a way or other easement admits of possession, and is
taken possession of with the land to which it runs, and that its
enjoyment is protected on the same grounds as possession in other
cases, the thought could have been understood. But that was not
the meaning of the Roman law, and, as has been shown, it is not
the doctrine of ours. We must take it that easements have become
an incident of land by an unconscious and unreasoned assumption
that a piece of land can have rights. It need not be said that
this is absurd, although the rules of law which are based upon it
are not so.

Absurd or not, the similes as well as the principles of the Roman
law reappear in Bracton. He says, "The servitude by which land is
subjected to [other] land, is made on the likeness of that by
which man is made the slave of man." /1/ "For rights belong to a
free tenement, as well as tangible things.... They may be called
rights or liberties with regard to the tenements to which they
are owed, but servitudes with regard to the tenements by which
they are owed.... One estate is free, the other subjected to
slavery." /2/ "[A servitude] may be called an arrangement by
which house is subjected to house, farm to [386] farm, holding to
holding." /1/ No passage has met my eye in which Bracton
expressly decides that an easement goes with the dominant estate
upon a disseisin, but what he says leaves little doubt that he
followed the Roman law in this as in other things.

The writ against a disseisor was for "so much land and its
appurtenances," /2/ which must mean that he who had the land even
wrongfully had the appurtenances. So Bracton says an action is in
rem "whether it is for the principal thing, or for a right which
adheres to the thing,... as when one sues for a right of way,
... since rights of this sort are all incorporeal things, and are
quasi possessed and reside in bodies, and cannot be got or kept
without the bodies in which they inhere, nor in any way had
without the bodies to which they belong." /3/ And again, "Since
rights do not admit of delivery, but are transferred with the
thing in which they are, that is, the bodily thing, he to whom
they are transferred forthwith has a quasi possession of those
rights as soon as he has the body in which they are." /4/

There is no doubt about the later law, as has been said at the
outset.

We have thus traced two competing and mutually inconsistent
principles into our law. On the one hand is the conception of
succession or privity; on the other, that of rights inhering in a
thing. Bracton seems to have vacillated a little from a feeling
of the possibility of conflict between the two. The benefit of a
warranty was confined to those who, by the act and consent of the
[387] grantee, succeeded to his place. It did not pass to assigns
unless assigns were mentioned. Bracton supposes grants of
easements with or without mention of assigns, which looks as if
he thought the difference might be material with regard to
easements also. He further says, that if an easement be granted
to A, his heirs and assigns, all such by the form of the grant
are allowed the use in succession, and all others are wholly
excluded. /1/ But he is not speaking of what the rights of a
disseisor would be as against one not having a better title, and
he immediately adds that they are rights over a corporeal object
belonging to a corporeal object.

Although it may be doubted whether the mention of assigns was
ever necessary to attach an easement to land, and although it is
very certain that it did not remain so long, the difficulty
referred to grew greater as time went on. It would have been
easily disposed of if the only rights which could be annexed to
land were easements, such as a right of way. It then might have
been said that these were certain limited interests in land, less
than ownership in extent, but like it in kind, and therefore
properly transferred by the same means that ownership was. A
right of way, it might have been argued, is not to be approached
from the point of view of contract. It does not presuppose any
promise on the part of the servient owner. His obligation,
although more troublesome to him than to others, is the same as
that of every one else. It is the purely negative duty not to
obstruct or interfere with a right of property. /2/

[388] But although the test of rights going with the land may
have been something of that nature, this will not help us to
understand the cases without a good deal of explanation. For such
rights might exist to active services which had to be performed
by the person who held the servient estate. It strikes our ear
strangely to hear a right to services from an individual called a
right of property as distinguished from contract. Still this will
be found to have been the way in which such rights were regarded.
Bracton argues that it is no wrong to the lord for the tenant to
alienate land held by free and perfect gift, on the ground that
the land is bound and charged with the services into whose hands
soever it may come. The lord is said to have a fee in the homage
and services; and therefore no entry upon the land which does not
disturb them injures him. /1/ It is the tenement which imposes
the obligation of homage, /2/ and the same thing is true of
villein and other feudal services. /3/

The law remained unchanged when feudal services took the form of
rent. /4/ Even in our modern terms for years rent is still
treated as something issuing out of the leased premises, so that
to this day, although, if you hire a whole house and it burns
down, you have to pay without abatement, because you have the
land out of which the rent issues, yet if you only hire a suite
of rooms and they are burned, you pay rent no longer, because you
no longer have the tenement out of which it comes. /5/

[389] It is obvious that the foregoing reasoning leads to the
conclusion that a disseisor of the tenant would be bound as much
as the tenant himself, and this conclusion was adopted by the
early law. The lord could require the services, /1/ or collect
the rent /2/ of any one who had the land, because, as was said in
language very like Bracton's, "the charge of the rent goes with
the land." /3/

Then as to the right to the rent. Rent was treated in early law
as a real right, of which a disseisin was possible, and for which
a possessory action could be brought. If, as was very frequently
the case, the leased land lay within a manor, the rent was parcel
of the manor, /4/ so that there was some ground for saying that
one who was seised of the manor, that is, who possessed the lands
occupied by the lord of the manor, and was recognized by the
tenants as lord, had the rents as incident thereto. Thus Brian,
Chief Justice of England under Henry VII., says, "If I am
disseised of a manor, and the tenants pay their rent to the
disseisor, and then I re-enter, I shall not have the back rent of
my tenants which they have paid to my disseisor, but the
disseisor shall pay for all in trespass or assize." /5/ This
opinion was evidently founded on the notion that the rent was
attached to the chief land like an easement. Sic fit ut debeantur
rei a re. /6/

Different principles might have applied when the rent was not
parcel of a manor, and was only part of the reversion; that is,
part of the landlord's fee or estate out of [390] which the lease
was carved. If the lease and rent were merely internal divisions
of that estate, the rent could not be claimed except by one who
was privy to that estate. A disseisor would get a new and
different fee, and would not have the estate of which the rent
was part. And therefore it would seem that in such a case the
tenant could refuse to pay him rent, and that payment to him
would be no defence against the true owner. /1/ Nevertheless, if
the tenant recognized him, the disseisor would be protected as
against persons who could not show a better title. /2/
Furthermore, the rent was so far annexed to the land that whoever
came by the reversion lawfully could collect it, including the
superior lord in case of escheat. /3/ Yet escheat meant the
extinction of the fee of which the lease and rent were parts, and
although Bracton regarded the lord as coming in under the
tenant's title pro herede, in privity, it was soon correctly
settled that he did not, but came in paramount. This instance,
therefore, comes very near that of a disseisor.

Services and rent, then, were, and to some extent are still,
dealt with by the law from the point of view of property. They
were things which could be owned and transferred like other
property. They could be possessed even by wrong, and possessory
remedies were given for them.

No such notion was applied to warranties, or to any right which
was regarded wholly from the point of view of contract. And when
we turn to the history of those remedies for rent which sounded
in contract, we find that they were so regarded. The actions of
debt and covenant [391] could not be maintained without privity.
In the ninth year of Henry VI. /1/ it was doubted whether an heir
having the reversion by descent could have debt, and it was held
that a grantee of the reversion, although he had the rent, could
not have that remedy for it. A few years later, it was decided
that the heir could maintain debt, /2/ and in Henry VII.'s reign
the remedy was extended to the devisee, /3/ who, as has been
remarked above, seemed more akin to the heir than a grantee, and
was more easily likened to him. It was then logically necessary
to give assigns the same action, and this followed. /4/ The
privity of contract followed the estate, so that the assignee of
the reversion could sue the person then holding the term. /5/ On
like grounds he was afterwards allowed to maintain covenant. /6/
But these actions have never lain for or against persons not
privy in estate with the lessor and lessee respectively, because
privity to the contract could never be worked out without
succession to the title. /7/

However, all these niceties had no application to the old
freehold rents of the feudal period, because the contractual
remedies did not apply to them until the time of Queen Anne. /8/
The freehold rent was just as much real estate as an acre of
land, and it was sued for by the similar remedy of an assize,
asking to be put back into possession.

[392] The allowance of contractual remedies shows that rent and
feudal services of that nature, although dealt with as things
capable of possession, and looked at generally from the point of
view of property rather than of contract, yet approach much
nearer to the nature of the latter than a mere duty not to
interfere with a way. Other cases come nearer still. The sphere
of prescription and custom in imposing active duties is large in
early law. Sometimes the duty is incident to the ownership of
certain land; sometimes the right is, and sometimes both are, as
in the case of an easement. When the service was for the benefit
of other land, the fact that the burden, in popular language,
fell upon one parcel, was of itself a reason for the benefit
attaching to the other.

Instances of different kinds are these. A parson might be bound
by custom to keep a bull and a boar for the use of his parish.
/1/ A right could be attached to a manor by prescription to have
a convent sing in the manor chapel. /2/ A right might be gained
by like means to have certain land fenced by the owner of the
neighboring lot. /3/ Now, it may readily be conceded that even
rights like the last two, when attached to land, were looked at
as property, and were spoken of as the subject of grant. /4/ It
may be conceded that, in many cases where the statement sounds
strange to modern ears, the obligation was regarded as failing on
the land alone, and not on the person of the [393] tenant. And it
may be conjectured that this view arose naturally and reasonably
from there having been originally no remedy to compel performance
of such services, except a distress executed on the servient
land. /1/ But any conjectured distinction between obligations for
which the primitive remedy was distress alone, and others, if it
ever existed, must soon have faded from view; and the line
between those rights which can be deemed rights of property, and
those which are mere contracts, is hard to see, after the last
examples. A covenant to repair is commonly supposed to be a pure
matter of contract. What is the difference between a duty to
repair, and a duty to fence? The difficulty remains almost as
great as ever of finding the dividing line between the competing
principles of transfer,--succession on the one side, and
possession of dominant land on the other. If a right in the
nature of an easement could be attached to land by prescription,
it could equally be attached by grant. If it went with the land
in one case, even into the hands of a disseisor, it must have
gone with it in the other. No satisfactory distinction could be
based on the mode of acquisition, /2/ nor was any attempted. As
the right was not confined to assigns, there was no need of
mentioning assigns. /3/ In modern times, at least, if not in
early law, such rights can be created by covenant as well [394]
as by grant. /1/ And, on the other hand, it is ancient law that
an action of covenant may be maintained upon an instrument of
grant. /2/ The result of all this was that not only a right
created by covenant, but the action of covenant itself, might in
such cases go to assigns, although not mentioned, at a time when
such mention was essential to give them the benefit of a
warranty. Logically, these premises led one step farther, and not
only assigns not named, but disseisors, should have been allowed
to maintain their action on the contract, as they had the right
arising out of it. Indeed, if the plaintiff had a right which
when obtained by grant would have entitled him to covenant, it
was open to argument that he should be allowed the same action
when he had the right by prescription, although, as has been seen
in the case of rent, it did not follow in practice from a man's
having a right that he had the contractual remedies for it. /3/
Covenant required a specialty, but prescription was said to be a
sufficiently good specialty. /4/ Where, then, was the line to be
drawn between covenants that devolved only to successors, and
those that went with the land?

The difficulty becomes more striking upon further examination of
the early law. For side by side with the personal warranty which
has been discussed hitherto, there was another warranty which has
not yet been mentioned [395] by which particular land alone was
bound. /1/ The personal warranty bound only the warrantor and his
heirs. As was said in a case of the time of Edward I., "no one
can bind assigns to warranty, since warranty always extends to
heirs who claim by succession and not by assignment." /2/ But
when particular land was bound, the warranty went with it, even
into the hands of the King, because, as Bracton says, the thing
goes with its burden to every one. /3/ Fleta writes that every
possessor will be held. /4/ There cannot be a doubt that a
disseisor would have been bound equally with one whose possession
was lawful.

We are now ready for a case /5/ decided under Edward III., which
has been discussed from the time of Fitzherbert and Coke down to
Lord St. Leonards and Mr. Rawle, which is still law, and is said
to remain still unexplained. /6/ It shows the judges hesitating
between the two conceptions to which this Lecture has been
devoted. If they are understood, I think the explanation will be
clear.

Pakenham brought covenant as heir of the covenantee against a
prior, for breach of a covenant made by the defendant's
predecessor with the plaintiff's great-grandfather, that the
prior and convent should sing every week in a chapel in his
manor, for him and his servants. The defendant first pleaded that
the plaintiff and his servants were not dwelling within the
manor; but, not daring to [396] rest his case on that, he pleaded
that the plaintiff was not heir, but that his elder brother was.
The plaintiff replied that he was tenant of the manor, and that
his great-grandfather enfeoffed a stranger, who enfeoffed the
plaintiff and his wife; and that thus the plaintiff was tenant of
the manor by purchase, and privy to the ancestor; and also that
the services had been rendered for a time whereof the memory was
not.

It is evident from these pleadings that assigns were not
mentioned in the covenant, and so it has always been taken. /1/
It also appears that the plaintiff was trying to stand on two
grounds; first, privity, as descendant and assign of the
covenantee; second, that the service was attached to the manor by
covenant or by prescription, and that he could maintain covenant
as tenant of the manor, from whichever source the duty arose.

Finchden, J. puts the case of parceners making partition, and one
covenanting with the other to acquit of suit. A purchaser has the
advantage of the covenant. Belknap, for the defendants, agrees,
but distinguishes. In that case the acquittance falls on the
land, and not on the person. /2/ (That is to say, such
obligations follow the analogy of easements, and, as the burden
falls on the quasi servient estate, the benefit goes with the
dominant land to assigns, whether mentioned or not, and they are
not considered from the point of view of contract at all.
Warranty, on the other hand, is a contract pure and simple, and
lies in the blood,--falls on the person, not on the land. /3/)

Finchden: a fortiori in this case; for there the action [397] was
maintained because the plaintiff was tenant of the land from
which the suit was due, and here he is tenant of the manor where
the chapel is.

Wichingham, J.: If the king grants warren to another who is
tenant of the manor, he shall have warren, &c.; but the warren
will not pass by the grant [of the manor], because the warren is
not appendant to the manor. No more does it seem the services are
here appendant to the manor.

Thorpe, C. J., to Belknap: "There are some covenants on which no
one shall have an action, but the party to the covenant, or his
heir, and some covenants have inheritance in the land, so that
whoever has the land by alienation, or in other manner, shall
have action of covenant; [or, as it is stated in Fitzherbert's
Abridgment, /1/ the inhabitants of the land as well as every one
who has the land, shall have the covenant;] and when you say he
is not heir, he is privy of blood, and may be heir: /2/ and also
he is tenant of the land, and it is a thing which is annexed to
the chapel, which is in the manor, and so annexed to the manor,
and so he has said that the services have been rendered for all
time whereof there is memory, whence it is right this action
should be maintained." Belknap denied that the plaintiff counted
on such a prescription; but Thorpe said he did, and we bear
record of it, and the case was adjourned. /3/

It will be seen that the discussion followed the lines marked out
by the pleading. One judge thought that [398] the plaintiff was
entitled to recover as tenant of the manor. The other puisne
doubted, but agreed that the case must be discussed on the
analogy of easements. The Chief Justice, after suggesting the
possibility of sufficient privity on the ground that the
plaintiff was privy in blood and might be heir, turns to the
other argument as more promising, and evidently founds his
opinion upon it. /1/ It would almost seem that he considered a
prescriptive right enough to support the action, and it is pretty
clear that he thought that a disseisor would have had the same
rights as the plaintiff.

In the reign of Henry IV., another case /2/ arose upon a covenant
very like the last. But this time the facts were reversed. The
plaintiff counted as heir, but did not allege that he was tenant
of the manor. The defendant, not denying the plaintiff's descent,
pleaded in substance that he was not tenant of the manor in his
own right. The question raised by the pleadings, therefore, was
whether the heir of the covenantee could sue without being tenant
of the manor. If the covenant was to be approached from the side
of contract, the heir was party to it as representing the
covenantee. If, on the other hand, it was treated as amounting to
the grant of a service like an easement, it would naturally go
with the manor if made to the lord of the manor. It seems to have
been thought that such a covenant might go either way, according
as it was made to the tenant of the manor or to a stranger.
Markham, one of the judges, says: "In a writ of covenant one must
be privy to the covenant if he would have a writ of covenant or
aid by the covenant. But, peradventure, if the covenant [399] had
been made with the lord of the manor, who had inheritance in the
manor, ou issint come determination poit estre fait, it would be
otherwise," which was admitted. /1/ It was assumed that the
covenant was not so made as to attach to the manor, and the
court, observing that the service was rather spiritual than
temporal, were inclined to think that the heir could sue. /2/ The
defendant accordingly over and set up a release. It will be seen
how fully this agrees with the former case.

The distinction taken by Markham is stated very clearly in a
reported by Lord Coke. In the argument of Chudleigh's Case the
line is drawn thus: "Always, the warranty as to voucher requires
privity of estate to which it was annexed," (i.e. succession to
the original covenantee,) "and the same law of a use.... But of
things annexed to land, it is otherwise, as of commons,
advowsons, and the like appendants or appurtenances.... So a
disseisor, abator, intruder, or the lord by escheat, &c., shall
have them as things annexed to the land. So note a diversity
between a use or warranty, and the like things annexed to the
estate of the land in privity, and commons, advowsons, and other
hereditaments annexed to the possession of the land." /3/ And
this, it seems to me, is the nearest approach which has ever been
made to the truth.

Coke, in his Commentary on Littleton (385 a), takes a distinction
between a warranty, which binds the party to yield lands in
recompense, and a covenant annexed to the land, which is to yield
but damages. If Lord Coke had [400] meant to distinguish between
warranties and all covenants which in our loose modern sense are
said to run with the land, this statement would be less
satisfactory than the preceding.

A warranty was a covenant which sometimes yielded but damages,
and a covenant in the old law sometimes yielded land. In looking
at the early cases we are reminded of the still earlier German
procedure, in which it did not matter whether the plaintiff's
claim was founded on a right of property in a thing, or simply on
a contract for it. /1/ Covenant was brought for a freehold under
Edward I., /2/ and under Edward III. it seems that a mill could
be abated by the same action, when maintained contrary to an
easement created by covenant. /3/ But Lord Coke did not mean to
lay down any sweeping doctrine, for his conclusion is, that "a
covenant is in many cases extended further than the warrantie."
Furthermore, this statement, as Lord Coke meant it, is perfectly
consistent with the other and more important distinction between
warranties and rights in the nature of easements or covenants
creating such rights. For Lord Coke's examples are confined to
covenants of the latter sort, being in fact only the cases just
stated from the Year Books.

Later writers, however, have wholly forgotten the distinction in
question, and accordingly it has failed to settle the disputed
line between conflicting principles. Covenants which started from
the analogy of warranties, and others to which was applied the
language and reasoning of easements, have been confounded
together under the title of [401] covenants running with the
land. The phrase "running with the land" is only appropriate to
covenants which pass like easements. But we can easily see how it
came to be used more loosely.

It has already been shown that covenants for title, like
warranties, went only to successors of the original covenantee.
The technical expression for the rule was that they were annexed
to the estate in privity. Nothing was easier than to overlook the
technical use of the word "estate," and to say that such
covenants went with the land. This was done, and forthwith all
distinctions became doubtful. It probably had been necessary to
mention assigns in covenants for title, as it certainly had been
to give them the benefit of the ancient warranty; /1/ for this
seems to have been the formal mark of those covenants which
passed only to privies. But it was not necessary to mention
assigns in order to attach easements and the like to land. Why
should it be necessary for one covenant running with the land
more than another? and if necessary for one, why not for all? /2/
The necessity of such mention in modern times has been supposed
to be governed by a fanciful rule of Lord Coke's. /3/ On the
other hand, the question is raised whether covenants which should
pass irrespective of privity are not governed by the same rule
which governs warranties.

These questions have not lost their importance. Covenants for
title are in every deed, and other covenants are [402] only less
common, which, it remains to show, belong to the other class.

Chief among these is the covenant to repair. It has already been
observed that an easement of fencing may be annexed to land, and
it was then asked what was the difference in kind between a right
to have another person build such structures, and a right to have
him repair structures already built. Evidence is not wanting to
show that the likeness was perceived. Only, as such covenants are
rarely, if ever, made, except in leases, there is always privity
to the original parties. For the lease could not, and the
reversion would not be likely to, go by disseisin.

The Dean of Windsor's Case decides that such a covenant binds an
assignee of the term, although not named. It is reported in two
books of the highest authority, one of the reporters being Lord
Coke, the other Croke, who was also a judge. Croke gives the
reason thus: "For a covenant which runs and rests with the land
lies for or against the assignee at the common law, quia transit
terra cum onere, although the assignees be not named in the
covenant." /1/ This is the reason which governed easements, and
the very phrase which was used to account for all possessors
being bound by a covenant binding a parcel of land to warranty.
Coke says, "For such covenant which extends to the support of the
thing demised is quodammodo appurtenant to it, and goes with it."
Again the language of easements. And to make this plainer, if
need be, it is added, "If a man grants to one estovers to repair
his house, it is appurtenant to his house." Estovers for [403]
repair went with the land, like other rights of common, /1/
which, as Lord Coke has told us, passed even to disseisors.

In the next reign the converse proposition was decided, that an
assignee of the reversion was entitled in like manner to the
benefit of the covenant, because "it is a covenant which runs
with the land." /2/ The same law was applied, with still clearer
reason, to a covenant to leave fifteen acres unploughed for
pasture, which was held to bind an assignee not named, /3/ and,
it would seem, to a covenant to keep land properly manured. /4/

If the analogy which led to this class of decisions were followed
out, a disseisor could sue or be sued upon such covenants, if the
other facts were of such a kind as to raise the question. There
is nothing but the novelty of the proposition which need prevent
its being accepted. It has been mentioned above, that words of
covenant may annex an easement to land, and that words of grant
may import a covenant. It would be rather narrow to give a
disseisor one remedy, and deny him another, where the right was
one, and the same words made both the grant and the covenant. /5/

The language commonly used, however, throws doubt and darkness
over this and every other question connected with the subject. It
is a consequence, already referred to, of confounding covenants
for title, and the class last discussed, [404] under the name of
covenants running with the land. According to the general opinion
there must be a privity of estate between the covenantor and
covenantee in the latter class of cases in order to bind the
assigns of the covenantor. Some have supposed this privity to be
tenure; some, an interest of the covenantee in the land of the
covenantor; and so on. /1/ The first notion is false, the second
misleading, and the proposition to which they are applied is
unfounded. Privity of estate, as used in connection with
covenants at common law, does not mean tenure or easement; it
means succession to a title. /2/ It is never necessary between
covenantor and covenantee, or any other persons, except between
the present owner and the original covenantee. And on principle
it is only necessary between them in those cases--such as
warranties, and probably covenants for title--where, the
covenants being regarded wholly from the side of contract, the
benefit goes by way of succession, and not with the land.

If now it should be again asked, at the end of this long
discussion, where the line is to be drawn between these two
classes of covenants, the answer is necessarily vague in view of
the authorities. The following propositions may be of some
service.

*A. With regard to covenants which go with the land:--

*(1.) Where either by tradition or good sense the burden of the
obligation would be said, elliptically, to fall on the land of
the covenantor, the creation of such a burden is in theory a
grant or transfer of a partial interest in [405] that land to the
covenantee. As the right of property so created can be asserted
against every possessor of the land, it would not be extravagant
or absurd to allow it to be asserted by the action of covenant.

*(2.) Where such a right is granted to the owner of a neighboring
piece of land for the benefit of that land, the right will be
attached to the land, and go with it into all hands. The action
of covenant would be allowed to assigns not named, and it would
not be absurd to give it to disseisors.

*(3.) There is one case of a service, the burden of which does
not fall upon land even in theory, but the benefit of which might
go at common law with land which it benefited. This is the case
of singing and the like by a convent. It will be observed that
the service, although not falling on land, is to be performed by
a corporation permanently seated in the neighborhood. Similar
cases are not likely to arise now.

*B. With regard to covenants which go only with the estate in the
land:--

In general the benefit of covenants which cannot be likened to
grants, and the burden of which does not fall on land, is
confined to the covenantee and those who sustain his persona,
namely, his executor or heir. In certain cases, of which the
original and type was the ancient warranty, and of which the
modern covenants for title are present examples, the sphere of
succession was enlarged by the mention of assigns, and assigns
are still allowed to represent the original covenantee for the
purposes of that contract. But it is only by way of succession
that any other person than the party to the contract can sue upon
it. Hence the plaintiff must always be privy in estate with the
covenantee.

[406] C. It is impossible, however, to tell by general reasoning
what rights will be held in English law to belong to the former
class, or where the line will be drawn between the two. The
authorities must be consulted as an arbitrary fact. Although it
might sometimes seem that the test of the first was whether the
service was of a nature capable of grant, so that if it rested
purely in covenant it would not follow the land, /1/ yet if this
test were accepted, it has already been shown that, apart from
tradition, some services which do follow the land could only be
matter of covenant. The grant of light and air, a well-
established easement, is called a covenant not to build on the
servient land to the injury of the light, by Baron Parke. /2/ And
although this might be doubted, /3/ it has been seen that at
least one well-established easement, that of fencing, cannot be
considered as a right granted out of the servient land with any
more propriety than a hundred other services which would be only
matter of contract if the law allowed them to be annexed to land
in like manner. The duty to repair exists only by way of
covenant, yet the reasoning of the leading cases is drawn from
the law of easement. On the other hand, a covenant by a lessee to
build a wall upon the leased premises was held, in Spencer's
Case, not to bind assigns unless mentioned; /4/ but Lord Coke
says that it would have bound them if it had purported to. The
analogy of warranty makes its appearance, and throws a doubt on
the fundamental principle of the case. We can only say that the
application [407] of the law is limited by custom, and by the
rule that new and unusual burdens cannot be imposed on land.

The general object of this Lecture is to discover the theory on
which a man is allowed to enjoy a special right when the facts
out of which the right arises are not true of him. The transfer
of easements presented itself as one case to be explained, and
that has now been analyzed, and its influence on the law has been
traced. But the principle of such transfers is clearly anomalous,
and does not affect the general doctrine of the law. The general
doctrine is that which has been seen exemplified in prescription,
warranty, and such covenants as followed the analogy mentioned
Another illustration which has not yet been is to be found in the
law of uses.

In old times a use was a chose in action,--that is, was
considered very nearly from the point of view of contract, and it
had a similar history to that which has been traced in other
cases. At first it was doubted whether proof of such a secret
trust ought to be allowed, even as against the heir. /1/ It was
allowed, however, in the end, /2/ and then the principle of
succession was extended to the assign. But it never went further.
Only those who were privies in estate with the original feoffee
to uses, were bound by the use. A disseisor was no more bound by
the confidence reposed in his disseisee, than he was entitled to
vouch his disseisee's warrantor. In the time of Henry VIII. it
was said that "where a use shall be, it is requisite that there
be two things, sc. confidence, and privity:... as I say, if
there be not privity or confidence, [408] then there can be no
use: and hence if the feoffees make a feoffment to one who has
notice of the use, now the law will adjudge him seised to the
first use, since there is sufficient privity between the first
feoffor and him, for if he [i.e. the first feoflor] had warranted
he [the last feoffee] should vouch as assign, which proves
privity; and he is in in the per by the feoffees; but where one
comes into the land in the post, as the lord by escheat or the
disseisor, then the use is altered and changed, because privity
is wanting." /1/

To this day it is said that a trust is annexed in privity to the
person and to the estate /2/ (which means to the persona). It is
not regarded as issuing out of the land like a rent, so that
while a rent binds every one who has the land, no matter how, a
disseisor is not bound by the trust. /3/ The case of the lord
taking by escheat has been doubted, /4/ and it will be remembered
that there is a difference between Bracton and later authors as
to whether he comes in as quasi heres or as a stranger.

Then as to the benefit of the use. We are told that the right to
sue the subpoena descended indeed to the heir, on the ground of
heres eadem persona cum antecessore, but that it was not assets.
/5/ The cestui que use was given power to sell by an early
statute. /6/ But with regard to trusts, Lord Coke tells us that
in the reign of Queen Elizabeth [409] all the judges in England
held that a trust could not be assigned, "because it was a matter
in privity between them, and was in the nature of a chose in
action." /1/ Uses and trusts were both devisable, however, from
an early day, /2/ and now trusts are as alienable as any form of
property.

The history of early law everywhere shows that the difficulty of
transferring a mere right was greatly felt when the situation of
fact from which it sprung could not also be transferred. Analysis
shows that the difficulty is real. The fiction which made such a
transfer conceivable has now been explained, and its history has
been followed until it has been seen to become a general mode of
thought. It is now a matter of course that the buyer stands in
the shoes of the seller, or, in the language of an old law-book,
/3/ that "the assign is in a manner quasi successor to his
assignor." Whatever peculiarities of our law rest on that
assumption may now be understood.





FOOTNOTES

3/1 E.g. Ine, c. 74; Alfred, c. 42; Ethelred, IV. 4, Section 1.

3/2 Bract., fol. 144, 145; Fleta, I. c. 40, 41; Co. Lit. 126b;
Hawkins, P.C., Bk. 2, ch. 23, Section 15.

3/3 Lib. I. c. 2, ad fin.

3 /4 Bract., fol. 144a, "assulto praemeditato."

4/1 Fol. 155; cf. 103b.

4/2 Y.B. 6 Ed. IV. 7, pl. 18.

4/3 Ibid., and 21 H. VII. 27, pl. 5.

4/4 D. 47. 9. 9.

7/1 xxi. 28.

7/2 [theta], ix. Jowett's Tr., Bk. IX. p. 437; Bohn's Tr., pp.
378, 379.

7/3 [theta], xv., Jowett, 449; Bohn, 397.

8/1 [iota alpha], xiv., Jowett, 509; Bohn, 495.

8/2 [theta], xii., Jowett, 443, 444; Bohn, 388.

8/3 [Greek words]. 244, 245.

8/4 l. 28 (11).

8/5 Solon.

8/6 "Si quadrupes pauperiem fecisse dicetur actio ex lege
duodecim tabularum descendit; quae lex voluit, aut dari [id] quod
nocuit, id ist, id animal, quod noxiam commisit; aut estimationem
noxiae offerre." D. 9. 1. 1, pr.; Just. Inst. 4. 9; XII Tab.,
VIII. 6.

8/7 Gaii Inst. IV. Sections 75, 76; D. 9. 4. 2, Section 1. "Si
servus furtum faxit noxiam ve noxit." XII Tab., XII.2. Cf.
Just. Inst. 4.8, Section 7.

9/1 D. 39. 2. 7, Sections 1, 2; Gaii Inst. IV. Section 75.

9/2 "Noxa caput sequitur." D. 9. 1. 1, Section 12; Inst. 4.8,
Section 5.

9/3 "Quia desinit dominus esse ubi fera evasit." D. 9. 1. 1,
Section 10; Inst. 4. 9, pr. Compare May v. Burdett, 9 Q.B.101, 113.

10/1 D. 19. 5. 14, Section 3; Plin. Nat. Hist., XVIII. 3.

10/2 "In lege antiqua si servus sciente domino furtum fecit,
vel aliam noxiam commisit, servi nomine actio est noxalis,
nec dominus suo nomine tenetur." D. 9. 4. 2.

10/3 Gaius, Inst. IV. Section 77, says that a noxal action may change
to a direct, and conversely, a direct action to a noxal. If a
paterfamilias commits a tort, and then is adopted or becomes a
slave, a noxal action now lies against his master in place of the
direct one against himself as the wrong-doer. Just. Inst. 4. 8,
Section
5.

11/1 LL. Alfred, c. 13; 1 Tylor, Primitive Culture, Am. ed., p.
285 et seq.; Bain, Mental and Moral Science, Bk. III. ch. 8, p.
261.

11/2 Florus, Epitome, II. 18. Cf. Livy, IX 1, 8, VIII. 39;
Zonaras, VII. 26, ed. Niebuhr, vol. 43, pp. 98, 99.

12/1 Gaii Inst. IV. Section 81. I give the reading of Huschke: "Licere
enim etiam, si fato is fuerit mortuus, mortuum dare; nam quamquam
diximus, non etiam permissum reis esse, et mortuos homines
dedere, tamen et si quis eum dederit, qui fato suo vita
excesserit, aeque liberatur." Ulpian's statement, in D. 9. 1. 1,
Section 13, that the action is gone if the animal dies ante litem
contestatam, is directed only to the point that liability is
founded on possession of the thing.

12/2 "Bello contra foedus suscepto."

12/3 Livy, VIII. 39: "Vir...haud dubie proximarum induciarum
ruptor. De eo coacti referre praetores decretum fecerunt 'Ut
Brutulus Papius Romanis dederetur."...Fetiales Romam, ut
censuerunt, missi, et corpus Brutuli exanime: ipse morte
voluntaria ignominiae se ac supplicio subtraxit. Placuit cum
corpore bona quoque ejus dedi." Cf. Zonaras, VII. 26, ed.
Niebuhr, vol. 43, p. 97: [Greek characters]. See further Livy, V.
36, "postulatumque ut pro jure gentium violato Fabii dederentur,"
and Ib. I. 32.

13/1 Livy, IX. 5, 8, 9, 10. "Nam quod deditione nostra negant
exsolvi religione populum, id istos magis ne dedantur, quam quia
ita se res habeat, dicere, quis adeo juris fetialium expers est,
qui ignoret?" The formula of surrender was as follows: "Quandoque
hisce homines injussu populi Romani Quiritium foedus ictum iri
spoponderunt, atque ob eam rem noxam nocuerunt; ob eam rem, quo
populus Romanus scelere impio sit solutus, hosce homines vobis
dedo." Cf. Zonaras, VII. 26, ed. Niebuhr, vol. 43, pp. 98, 99.

13/2 De Orator. I. 40, and elsewhere. It is to be noticed that
Florus, in his account, says deditione Mancini expiavit. Epitome,
II. 18. It has already been observed that the cases mentioned by
Livy seem to suggest that the object of the surrender was
expiation, as much as they do that it was satisfaction of a
contract. Zonaras says, Postumius and Calvinus [Greek
characters]. (VII. 26, ed. Niebuhr, Vol. 43, pp. 98, 99.) Cf. ib.
p. 97. Compare Serv. ad Virg. Eclog. IV. 43: "In legibus Numae
cautum est, ut si quis imprudens occidisset hominem pro capite
occisi et natis [agnatis? Huschke] ejus in concione offerret
arietem." Id. Geor. III. 387, and Festus, Subici, Subigere. But
cf. Wordsworth's Fragments and Specimens of Early Latin, note to
XII Tab., XII. 2, p. 538.

14/1 D. 9. 4. 2

14/2 2 Tissot, Droit Penal, 615; 1 Ihering, Geist d. Roem. R.,
Section
14; 4 id. Section 63.

14/3 Aul. Gell. Noctes Attici, 20. 1; Quintil. Inst. Orat. 3. 6.
84; Tertull. Apol., c. 4.

14/4 Cf. Varro, De Lingua Latina, VI.: "Liber, qui suas operas in
servitute pro pecunia, quam debeat, dum solveret Nexus vocatur."

15/1 D. 9. 1. 1, Section 9 But cf. 1 Hale, P.C. 420.

15/2 D. 9. 4. 2, Section 1.

15/3 D. 9. 1. 1, Sections 4, 5.

16/1 D. 4. 9. 1, Section 1; ib. 7, Section 4.

16/2 Gaius in D. 44. 7. 5, Section 6; Just. Inst. 4. 5, Section
3.

16/3 D. 4. 9. 7, pr.

17/1 See Austin, Jurisp. (3d ed.) 513; Doctor and Student, Dial.
2, ch. 42.

17/2 Cf. L. Burgund. XVIII.; L. Rip. XLVI. (al. 48).

17/3 See the word Lege, Merkel, Lex Salica, p. 103. Cf. Wilda,
Strafrecht der Germanen, 660, n. 1. See further Lex Salica, XL.;
Pactus pro tenore pacis Child. et Chloth., c. 5; Decretio
Chlotharii, c. 5; Edictus Hilperichi, cc. 5, 7; and the
observations of Sohm in his treatise on the Procedure of the
Salic Law, Sections 20, 22, 27, French Tr. (Thevenin), pp. 83 n.,
93, 94, 101-103, 130.

17/4 Wilda, Strafrecht, 590.

18/1 Cf. Wilda, Strafrecht, 660, n. 1; Merkel, Lex Salica, Gloss.
Lege, p. 103. Lex Saxon. XI. Section 3: "Si servus perpetrato facinore
fugerit, ita ut adomino ulterius inveniri non possit, nihil solvat."
Cf. id. II. Section 5. Capp. Rip. c. 5: "Nemini liceat servum
suum, propter damnum ab illo cuibet inlatum, dimittere; sed justa
qualitatem damni dominus pro illo respondeat vel eum in
compositione aut ad poenam petitori offeret. Si autem servus
perpetrato scelere fugerit, ita ut a domino paenitus inveniri non
possit, sacramento se dominus ejus excusare studeat, quod nec
suae voluntatis nec conscientia fuisset, quod servus ejus tale
facinus commisit."

18/2 L. Saxon. XI. Section 1.

18/3 Lex Angl. et Wer. XVI.: "Omne damnum quod servus fecerit
dominus emendet."

19/1 C. 3; 1 Thorpe, Anc. Laws, pp. 27, 29.

19/2 C. 74; 1 Thorpe, p. 149; cf. p. 118, n. a. See LL. Hen. I.,
LXX. Section 5.

19/3 C. 24; 1 Thorpe, p. 79. Cf. Ine, c. 42; 1 Thorpe, p. 129.

19/4 C. 13; 1 Thorpe, p. 71.

19/5 1 Tylor, Primitive Culture, Am. ed., p. 286.

20/1 Cf. Record in Molloy, Book 2, ch. 3, Section 16, 24 Ed. III.:
"Visum fuit curiae, quod unusquisque magister navis tenetur
respondere de quacunque transgressione per servientes suos in
navi sua facta." The Laws of Oleron were relied on in this case.
Cf. Stat. of the Staple, Ed. III., Stat. 2, c. 19. Later, the
influence of the Roman law is clear.

20/2 Quon. Attach., c. 48, pl. 10 et seq. Cf. The Forme and Maner
of Baron Courts, c. 62 et seq.

21/1 Forme and Maner of Baron Courts, c. 63.

21/2 C. 64. This substantially follows the Quoniam Attachiamenta,
c. 48, pl. 13, but is a little clearer. Contra, Fitzh. Abr.
Corone, Pl. 389, 8 Ed. II.

22/1 Fitzh. Abr. Barre, pl. 290.

22/2 Mitchil v. Alestree, 1 Vent. 295; S.C. 2 Lev. 172; S.C. 3
Keb. 650. Cf. May b. Burdett, 9 Q.B.101, 113.

22/3 May v. Burdett, 9 Q.B.101.

22/4 Mason v. Keeling, 12 Mod. 332, 335; S.C. 1 Ld. Raym. 606,
608.

23/1 Williams, J. in Cox v. Burbidge, 13 C.B. N.S. 430, 438. Cf.
Willes, J. in Read v. Edwards, 17 C.B. N.S. 245, 261.

23/2 Mason v. Keeling, 1 Ld. Raym. 606, 608.

23/3 In the laws of Ine, c. 42 (1 Thorpe, Anc. Laws, 129),
personal liability seems to be imposed where there is a failure
to fence. But if an animal breaks hedges the only remedy
mentioned is to kill it, the owner to have the skin and flesh,
and forfeit the rest. The defendant was held "because it was
found that this was for default of guarding them,...for default
of good guard," in 27 Ass., pl. 56, fol. 141, A.D. 1353 or 1354.
It is much later that the reason is stated in the absolute form,
"because I am bound by law to keep my beasts without doing wrong
to any one." Mich. 12 Henry VII., Keilway, 3b, pl. 7. See,
further, the distinctions as to a horse killing a man in Regiam
Majestatem, IV, c. 24.

24/1 Fol. 128.

24/2 Cf. 1 Britton (Nich.), 6a, b, 16 (top paging 15, 39);
Bract., fol. 136b; LL. Alfred, c. 13 (1 Thorpe, Anc. Laws, p.
71); Lex Saxon., Tit. XIII.; Leg Alamann., Tit. CIII. 24.

25/1 Fleta, I. 26, Section 10; Fitzh. Abr. Corone, pl. 416. See
generally Staundforde, P.C., I. c. 2, fol. 20 et seq.; 1 Hale,
P.C. 410 et seq.

25/2 Doctor and Student, Dial. 2, c. 51.

25/3 Plowd. 260.

25/4 Jacob, Law Dict. Deodand.

25/5 Y.B. 30 & 31 Ed. I., pp. 524, 525; cf. Bract., fol. 136b.

26/1 Fitzh. Abr. Corone, pl. 403.

26/2 Bract. 122; 1 Britton (Nich.), top p. 16; Fleta, Ic. 25,
Section 9, fol. 37.

26/3 1 Hale, P.C. 423.

26/4 1 Rot. Parl. 372; 2 Rot. Parl. 345, 372a, b; 3 Rot. Parl.
94a, 120a, 121; 4 Rot. Parl. 12a, b, 492b, 493. But see 1 Hale,
P.C. 423.

26/5 1 Black Book of the Admiralty, 242.

27/1 Cf. Ticonderoga, Swabey, 215, 217.

27/2 China, 7 Wall. 53.

28/1 Doctor and Student, Dial. 2, c. 51.

28/2 1 Roll. Abr. 530 (C) 1.

29/1 3 Black Book of Adm. 103.

29/2 Malek Adhel, 2 How. 210, 234.

30/1 3 Kent, 218; Customs of the Sea, cap. 27, 141, 182, in 3
Black Book of the Admiralty, 103, 243, 245.

31/1 3 Kent's Comm. 188.

31/2 Clay v. Snelgrave, 1 Ld. Raym. 576, 577; S.C. 1 Salk. 33.
Cf. Molloy, p. 355, Book II. ch. 3, Section 8.

31/3 "Ans perdront lurs loers quant la nef est perdue." 2 Black
Book, 213. This is from the Judgments of the Sea, which,
according to the editor (II., pp. xliv., xlvii.), is the most
ancient extant source of modern maritime law except the decisions
of Trani. So Molloy, Book II. ch. 3, Section 7, p. 354: "If the
ship perishes at sea they lose their wages." So 1 Siderfin,
236, pl. 2.

32/1 3 Black Book, pp. lix., lxxiv.

32/2 3 Black Book, 263. It should be added, however, that it is
laid down in the same book that, if the vessel is detained in
port by the local authorities, the master is not bound to give
the mariners wages, "for he has earned no freight."

32/3 Lipson v. Harrison, 2 Weekly Rep. 10. Cf. Louisa Jane, 2
Lowell, 295.

32/4 3 Kent's Comm. (12th ed.), 218; ib. 138, n. 1.

32/5 3 Kent, 218.

32/6 Justin v. Ballam, 1 Salk. 34; S.C. 2 Ld. Raym. 805.

33/1 D. 20. 4. 5 & 6; cf. Livy, XXX. 38.

33/2 Pardessus, Droit. Comm., n. 961.

33/3 3 Keb. 112, 114, citing 1 Roll. Abr. 530.

34/1 Godbolt, 260.

34/2 3 Colquhoun, Roman Civil Law, Section 2196.

35/1 Lex Salica (Merkel), LXXVII.; Ed. Hilperich., Section 5.

36/1 See Lecture III., ad fin.

39/1 Cf. 2 Hawk. P.C. 303 et seq.; 27 Ass. 25.

40/1 2 Palgrave, Commonwealth, cxxx., cxxxi.

41/1 Butler, Sermons, VIII. Bentham, Theory of Legislation
(Principles of Penal Code, Part 2, ch. 16), Hildreth's tr., p.
309.

41/2 General View of the Criminal Law of England, p. 99.

43/1 Wharton, Crim. Law, (8th ed.) Section 8, n. 1.

43/2 Ibid., Section 7.

43/3 Even the law recognizes that this is a sacrifice.
Commonwealth v. Sawin, 2 Pick. (Mass.) 547, 549.

47/1 Cf. 1 East, P.C. 294; United States v. Holmes, 1 Wall. Jr.
1; 1 Bishop, Crim. Law, Sections 347-349, 845 (6th ed.); 4 Bl.
Comm.
31.

51/1 Art. 223.

51/2 General View of the Criminal Law of England, p. 116.

53/1 Harris, Criminal Law, p. 13.

53/2 Steph. Dig. Crim. Law, Art. 223, Illustration (6), and n. 1.

56/1 4 Bl. Comm. 192.

57/1 Cf. 4 Bl. Comm. 197.

58/1 Reg. v. Hibbert, L.R. 1 C.C. 184.

59/1 Reg. v. Prince, L.R. 2 C.C. 154.

59/2 Commonwealth v. Hallett, 103 Mass. 452.

60/1 Stephen, Dig. Cr. Law, Art. 223, Illustr. (5); Foster, 294,
295.

60/2 Cf. Gray's case, cited 2 Strange, 774.

60/3 Steph. Dig., Art. 223, Illustr. (1).

60/4 Steph. Dig., Art. 223, Illustr. (8).

60/5 Rex v. Mastin, 6 C.&P. 396. Cf. Reg. v. Swindall, 2 C. & K.
230.

60/6 4 Bl. Comm. 192.

62/1 Steph. Dig. Cr. Law, Art. 225.

62/2 Rex v. Shaw, 6 C.&P. 372.

62/3 Rex v. Oneby, 2 Strange, 766, 773.

62/4 Rex v. Hayward, 6 C.&P. 157.

63/1 Commonwealth v. Walden, 3 Cush. (Mass.) 558. Cf. Steph. Gen.
View of the Crim. Law, 84.

64/1 2 Bishop Crim. Law, Section 14 (6th ed.).

64/2 Glanv., Lib. XIV. c. 4.

64/3 Bract., fol. 146b.

64/4 Ibid.

64/5 2 East, P.C., c. 21, Sections 7, 8, pp. 1027, 1031.

66/1 1 Bishop, Crim. Law, Section 735 (6th ed.).

66/2 Reg. v. Dilworth, 2 Moo. & Rob. 531; Reg. v. Jones, 9 C.&P.
258. The statement that a man is presumed to intend the natural
consequences of his acts is a mere fiction disguising the true
theory. See Lecture IV.

67/1 Reg. v. Taylor, 1 F. & F. 511.

67/2 Reg. v. Roberts, 25 L. J. M. C. 17; S.C. Dearsly, C., C.
539.

68/1 Lewis v. The State, 35 Ala. 380.

69/1 See M'Pherson's Case, Dearsly & Bell, 197, 201, Bramwell, B.

69/2 Cf. 1 Bishop, Crim. Law, Sections 741-745 (6th ed.).

71/1 2 Bishop, Crim. Law, Section 758 (6th ed.).

73/1 Cf. Stephen, General View of Criminal Law of England, 49 et
seq.

73/2 Cf. Stephen, General View, 49-52; 2 East, P.C. 553.

74/1 Rex v. Cabbage, Russ. & Ry. 292.

74/2 Cf. 4 Bl. Comm. 224; Steph. Dig. Crim. Law, Arts. 316, 319.

74/3 Cf. 4 Bl. Comm. 227, 228.

75/1 1 Starkie, Cr. Pl. 177. This doctrine goes further than my
argument requires. For if burglary were dealt with only on the
footing of an attempt, the whole crime would have to be complete
at the moment of breaking into the house. Cf. Rex v. Furnival,
Russ. & Ry. 445.

81/1 See Lecture VII.

82/1 Austin, Jurisprudence (3d ed.), 440 et seq., 474, 484, Lect.
XX., XXIV., XXV.

84/1 Lib. I. c. 2, ad fin.

85/1 Hist. English Law, I. 113 (bis), n.a; Id., ed. Finlason, I.
178, n. 1. Fitzherbert (N.B. 85, F.) says that in the vicontiel
writ of trespass, which is not returnable into the king's court,
it shall not be said quare vi et armis. Cf. Ib. 86, H.

85/2 Milman v. Dolwell, 2 Camp. 378; Knapp v. Salsbury, 2 Camp.
500; Peafey v. Walter, 6 C.&P. 232; Hall v. Fearnley, 3 Q.B. 919.

85/3 Y.B. 6 Ed. IV. 7, pl. 18, A.D. 1466; cf. Ames, Cases in
Tort, 69, for a translation, which has been followed for the most
part.

87/1 Y.B. 21 Hen. VII. 27, pl. 5, A.D. 1506.

87/2 Cf. Bract., fol. 136 b. But cf. Stat. of Gloucester, 6 Ed.
I. c. 9; Y.B. 2 Hen. IV. 18, pl. 8, by Thirning; Essays in Ang.
Sax. Law, 276.

87/3 Hobart, 134, A.D. 1616.

87/4 Sir T. Jones, 205, A.D. 1682.

87/5 1 Strange, 596, A.D. 1723.

87/6 2 Keyes, 169, A.D. 1865.

88/1 Anonymous, Cro. Eliz. 10, A.D. 1582.

88/2 Sir T. Raym. 467, A.D. 1682.

88/3 Scott v. Shepherd, 2 Wm. B1. 892, A.D. 1773.

88/4 3 East, 593. See, further, Coleridge's note to 3 Bl. Comm.
123; Saunders, Negligence, ch. 1, Section I; argument in Fletcher
v. Rylands, 3 H.&C. 774, 783; Lord Cranworth, in S.C., L.R. 3 H. L.
330, 341.

90/1 Ex. gr. Metropolitan Railway Co. v. Jackson, 3 App. Cas.
193. See M'Manus v. Crickett, 1 East, 106, 108.

91/1 1 Ld. Raym. 38; S.C. Salk. 637; 4 Mod. 404; A.D. 1695.

92/1 2 Wm. Bl. 892. Cf. Clark v. Chambers, 3 Q.B.D. 327, 330,
338.

92/2 7 Vt, 62.

93/1 Smith v. London & South-Western Railway Co., L.R. 6 C.P. 14,
21. Cf. S.C., 5 id. 98, 103, 106.

93/2 Sharp v. Powell, L.R. 7 C.P. 253. Cf. Clark v. Chambers, 3
Q.B.D. 327, 336-338. Many American cases could be cited which
carry the doctrine further. But it is desired to lay down no
proposition which admits of controversy, and it is enough for the
present purposes that Si home fait un loyal act, que apres devint
illoyal, ceo est damnum sine injuria. Latch, 13. I purposely omit
any discussion of the true rule of damages where it is once
settled that a wrong has been done. The text regards only the
tests by which it is decided whether a wrong has been done.

94/1 Mitchil v. Alestree, 1 Ventris, 295; S.C., 3 Keb. 650; 2
Lev. 172. Compare Hammack v. White, 11 C.B. N.S. 588; infra, p.
158.

95/1 Harvey v. Dunlop, Hill & Denio, (Lalor,) 193.

95/2 See Lecture II. pp. 54, 55.

97/1 cf. Hobart v. Hagget, 3 Fairf. (Me.) 67.

98/1 See Bonomi v. Backhouse, El. Bl. & El. 622, Coleridge, J.,
at p. 640.

99/1 3 Levirtz, 87, A.D. 1681.

99/2 Compare the rule as to cattle in Y.B. 22 Edw. IV. 8, pl. 24,
stated below, p. 118.

100/1 Disc. 123, pr.; 124, Sections 2, 3. As to the historical
origin of the latter rule, compare Lecture V.

101/1 Lecture I, pp. 3, 4.

101/2 Lib. I. c. 2, ad. fin.

101/3 Fol. 155.

101/4 Bro. Trespass, pl. 119; Finch, 198; 3 Bl. Comm. 118, 119.

101/5 See Brunner, Schwurgerichte, p. 171.

101/6 An example of the year 1195 will be found in Mr. Bigelow's
very interesting and valuable Placita Anglo-Normanica, p. 285,
citing Rot. Cur. Regis, 38; S.C. ? Abbr. Plac., fol. 2, Ebor.
rot. 5. The suit was by way of appeal; the cause of action, a
felonious trespass. Cf. Bract., fol. 144 a.

102/1 An example may be seen in the Year Book, 30 & 31 Edward I.
(Horwood), p. 106.

103/1 6 Ed. IV. 7, pl. 18.

103/2 Popham, 151; Latch, 13, 119, A.D. 1605.

104/1 Hobart, 134, A.D. 1616.

104/2 3 East, 593.

105/1 1 Bing. 213, A.D. 1823.

105/2 6 Cush. 292.

106/1 Morris v. Platt, 32 Conn. 75, 84 et seq., A.D. 1864.

106/2 Nitro-glycerine Case (Parrot v. Wells), 15 Wall. 524, 538.

106/3 Hill & Denio, (Lalor,) 193; Losee v. Buchanan, 51 N.Y. 476,
489.

107/1 Vincent v. Stinehour, 7 Vt. 62. See, further, Clayton, 22,
pl. 38; Holt, C.J., in Cole v. Turner, 6 Mod. 149; Lord
Hardwicke, in Williams v. Jones, Cas. temp. Hardw. 298; Hall v.
Fearnley, 8 Q.B. 919; Martin, B., in Coward v. Baddeley, 4 H.&N.
478; Holmes v. Mather, L.R. 10 Ex. 261; Bizzell v. Booker, 16
Ark. 308; Brown v. Collins, 53 N.H. 442.

107/2 Blyth v. Birmingham Waterworks Co., 11 Exch. 781, 784;
Smith v. London & South-Western Ry. Co., L.R. 5 C.P. 98, 102.
Compare Campbell, Negligence, Section 1 (2d ed.), for Austin's
point of view.

109/1 cf. Bro. Corone, pl. 6; Neal v. Gillett, 23 Conn. 437, 442;
D. 9. 2. 5, Section 2; D. 48. 8. 12.

113/1 I Thorpe, p. 85; cf. LL. Hen. I., c. 88, Section 3.

113/2 Spofford v. Harlow, 3 Allen, 176.

114/1 See 27 Ass., pl. 56, fol. 141; Y.B. 43 Edw. III. 33, pl.
38. The plea in the latter case was that the defendant performed
the cure as well as he knew how, without this that the horse died
for default of his care. The inducement, at least, of this plea
seems to deal with negligence as meaning the actual state of the
party's mind.

115/1 Hobart, 134.

115/2 See Knight v. Jermin, Cro. Eliz. 134; Chambers v. Taylor,
Cro. Eliz. 900.

115/3 32 Conn. 75, 89, 90.

116/1 Y.B. 12 Hen. VIII. 2 b, Pl. 2.

116/2 Keilway, 46 b.

116/3 L.R. 3 H.L. 330, 339; L.R. 1 Ex. 265, 279-282; 4 H.&C. 263;
3 id. 774.

117/1 See Card v. Case, 5 C.B. 622, 633, 634.

117/2 See Lecture I. p. 23 and n. 3.

117/3 Mitten v. Fandrye, Popham, 161; S.C., 1 Sir W. Jones, 136;
S.C., nom. Millen v. Hawery, Latch, 13; id. 119. In the latter
report, at p. 120, after reciting the opinion of the court in
accordance with the text, it is said that judgment was given non
obstant for the plaintiff; contrary to the earlier statement in
the same book, and to Popham and Jones; but the principle was at
all events admitted. For the limit, see Read v. Edwards, 17 C.B.
N.S. 245.

118/1 Y.B. 22 Edw. IV. 8, pl. 24.

118/2 Popham, at p. 162; S.C., Latch, at p. 120; cf. Mason v.
Keeling, 1 Ld. Raym. 606, 608. But cf. Y.B. 20 Edw. IV. 10, 11,
pl. 10.

118/3 Latch, at p. 120. This is a further illustration of the
very practical grounds on which the law of trespass was settled.

118/4 12 Mod. 332, 335; S.C., 1 Ld. Raym. 606, 608.

118/5 12 Mod. 335; Dyer, 25 b, pl. 162, and cas. in marg.; 4 Co.
Rep. 18 b; Buxendin v. Sharp, 2 Salk. 662; S.C., 3 Salk. 169;
S.C., nom. Bayntine v. Sharp, 1 Lutw. 90; Smith v. Pelah, 2
Strange, 264; May v. Burdett, 9 Q.B. 101; Card v. Case, 5 C.B.
622.

119/1 12 Mod. 335. See Andrew Baker's case, 1 Hale, P.C. 430.

119/2 Besozzi v. Harris, 1 F.&F. 92.

119/3 See Fletcher v. Rylands, L.R. I Ex. 265, 281, 282; Cox v.
Burbridge, 13 C.B. N.S. 430, 441; Read v. Edwards, 17 C.B. N.S.
245, 260; Lee v. Riley, 18 C.B. N.S. 722; Ellis v. Loftus Iron
Co., L.R. 10 C.P. 10; 27 Ass., pl. 56, fol. 141; Y.B. 20 Ed. IV.
11, pl. 10; 13 Hen. VII. 15, pl. 10; Keilway, 3 b, pl. 7. Cf. 4
Kent (12th ed.), 110, n. 1, ad fin.

120/1 2 Ld. Raym. 909; 13 Am. L.R. 609.

120/2 See Grill v. General Iron Screw Collier Co., L.R. 1 C.P.
600, 612, 614.

120/3 Railroad Co. v. Lockwood, 17 Wall. 357, 383.

121/1 L.R. 1 C.P. 300.

121/2 See Gorham v. Gross, 125 Mass. 232, 239, bottom.

121/3 Minor v. Sharon, 112 Mass. 477, 487.

122/1 See Winsmore v. Greenbank, Willes, 577, 583; Rex v. Oneby,
2 Strange, 766, 773; Lampleigh v. Brathwait, Hobart, 105, 107;
Wigram, Disc., pl. 249; Evans on Pleading, 49, 138, 139, 143 et
seq.; Id., Miller's ed., pp. 147, 149.

123/1 See Detroit & Milwaukee R. R. Co. v. Van Steinburg, 17
Mich. 99, 120.

123/2 In the small-pox case, Minor v. Sharon, 112 Mass. 477,
while the court ruled with regard to the defendant's conduct as
has been mentioned, it held that whether the plaintiff was guilty
of contributory negligence in not having vaccinated his children
was "a question of fact, and was properly left to the jury." p.
488.

124/1 Metropolitan Railway Co. v. Jackson, 3 App. Cas. 193, 197.

125/1 See Kearney v. London, Brighton & S. Coast Ry. Co., L.R. 5
Q.B. 411, 414, 417; S.C., 6 id. 759.

125/2 Byrne v. Boadle, 2 H. & C. 722.

125/3 See Skinnier v. Lodon, Brighton, & S. Coast Ry. Co., 5
Exch. 787. But cf. Hammack v. White, 11 C.B. N.S. 588, 594.

127/1 7 American Law Review, 654 et seq., July, 1873.

128/1 Callahan v. Bean, 9 Allen, 401.

128/2 Carter v. Towne, 98 Mass. 567.

128/3 Lovett v. Salem & South Danvers R. R. Co., 9 Allen, 557.

128/4 Back v. Stacey, 2 C.&P. 465.

128/5 Cf. Beadel v. Perry, L.R. 3 Eq. 465; City of London Brewery
Co. v. Termant, L.R. 9 Ch. 212, 220; Hackett v. Baiss, L.R. 20
Eq. 494; Theed v. Debenham, 2 Ch. D. 165.

135/1 Williamson v. Allison, 2 East, 446.

136/1 Leather v. Simpson, L.R. 11 Eq. 398, 406. On the other
hand, the extreme moral view is stated in Weir v. Bell, 3 Ex. D.
238, 243.

138/1 As to actual knowledge and intent, see Lecture II. p. 57.

141/1 Cf. Knight v. German, Cro. Eliz. 70; S.C., ib. 134.

141/2 Mitchell v. Jenkins, 5 B.&Ad. 588, 594; Turner v. Ambler,
10 Q.B. 252, 257, 261.

142/1 Redfield, C. J. in Barron v. Mason, 31 Vt. 189, 197.

142/2 Mitchell v. Jenkins, 5 B.&Ad. 588, 595.

143/1 See Burton v. Fulton, 49 Penn. St. 151.

144/1 Rolfe, B. in Fouldes v. Willoughby, 8 Meeson & Welsby, 540.

145/1 Supra, pp. 115 et seq.

147/1 See, e.g., Cooley, Torts, 164.

147/2 Rex v. Dixon, 3 Maule & Selwyn, 11, 15; Reg. v. Hicklin,
L.R. 3 Q.B. 360; 5 C.&P. 266, n.

148/1 Aleyn, 35; Style, 72; A.D. 1648.

149/1 1 Kent (12th ed.), 467, n. 1; 6 Am. Law Rev. 723-725; 7 id.
652.

149/2 2 Wm. Bl. 892, A.D. 1773; supra, p. 92; Addison on Torts
(4th ed.), 264, citing Y.B. 37 Hen. VI. 37, pl. 26, which hardly
sustains the broad language of the text.

151/1 Compare Crouch v. London & N. W. R. Co., 14 C.B. 255, 283;
Calye's Case, 8 Co. Rep. 32; Co. Lit. 89 a, n. 7; 1 Ch. Pl. (lst
ed,), 219, (6th ed.), 216, 217; 7 Am. Law Rev. 656 et seq.

151/2 But cf. The Pawashick, 2 Lowell, 142.

151/3 Gibson v. Stevens, 8 How. 384, 398, 399; Barnett v.
Brandao, 6 Man. & Gr. 630, 665; Hawkins v. Cardy, 1 Ld. Raym.
360.

151/4 Pickering v. Barkley, Style, 132; Wegerstoffe v. Keene, 1
Strange, 214, 216, 223; Smith v. Kendall, 6 T. R. 123, 124.

155/1 Card v. Case, 5 C.B. 622, 634. Cf. Austin (3d ed.), 513.

156/1 Rylands v. Fletcher, L.R. 3 H.L. 330; supra, p. 116.

156/2 See Marshall v. Welwood, 38 N.J. (9 Vroom), 339; 2
Thompson, Negligence, 1234, n. 3.

157/1 Gorham v. Gross, 125 Mass. 232; supra, p. 117.

158/1 Mitchil v. Alestree, 1 Vent. 295; S.C., 3 Keb. 650; 2 Lev.
172; supra, p. 94.

158/2 Hammack v. White, 11 C.B. N.S. 588.

166/1 Laband, Vermogensrechtlichen Klagen, Section 16, pp. 108
et seq.; Heusler, Gewere, 487, 492. These authors correct the
earlier opinion of Bruns, R. d. Besitzes, Section 37, pp. 313 et
seq., adopted by Sohm in his Proc. d. Lex Salica, Section 9. Cf.
the discussion of sua in writs of trespass, &c. in the English
law, at the end of Lecture VI. Those who wish short accounts in
English may consult North Amer. Rev., CX. 210, and see Id.,
CXVIII. 416; Essays in Anglo-Saxon Law, pp. 212 et seq. Our
knowledge as to the primitive form of action is somewhat meagre
and dependent on inference. Some of the earliest texts are Ed.
Liutpr. 131; Lex Baiw., XV. 4; L. Frision. Add. X.; L. Visig.,
V.5. I; L. Burg., XLIX. I, 2. The edict of Liutprand, dealing
with housebreaking followed by theft of property left in charge
of the householder, lays down that the owner shall look to the
bailee alone, and the bailee shall hold the thief both for the
housebreaking and for the stolen goods. Because, as it says, we
cannot raise two claims out of one causa; somewhat as our law was
unable to divide the severing a thing from the realty, and the
conversion of it, into two different wrongs. Compare, further,
Jones, Bailm. 112; Exodus xxii. 10-12; LL. Alfred, 28; I Thorpe,
Anc. L., p. 51; Gaii Inst., III. Sections 202-207.

167/1 XXXI. 16.

168/1 "Peterit enim rem suam petere [civiliter] ut adiratam per
testimonium proborum hominum, et sic consequi rem suam quamvia
furatam. . . Et non refert utrum res que ita subtracta fuit
extiterit illius appellantis propria vel alterius, dum tamen de
custodia sua." Bract., fol. 150 b, 151; Britton (Nich. ed.), I.
59, 60 [23 b], De Larcyns; cf. ib. 67 [26 b]; Fleta, fol. 5i, L.
I. c. 38, Section 1.

169/1 Y.B. 21 & 22 Ed. I. 466-468, noticed in North Amer. Rev.,
CXVIII. 421, n. (So Britton [26 b], "Si il puse averreer la
perte.") This is not trover. The declaration in detinue per
inventionem was called "un newfound Haliday" in Y.B. 33 Hen. VI.
26, 27; cf. 7 Hen. VI. 22, pl. 3; Isack v. Clarke, I Rolle, R.
126, 128.

169/2 Y.B. 2 Ed. IV. 4, 5, pl. 9; 21 Hen. VII. 39, pl. 49; Bro.
Trespass, pl. 216, 295.

169/3 2 Wms. Saund. 47, n. 1. See above, p. 167.

170/1 Notes to Saunders, Wilbraham v. Snow, note (h).

170/2 Y.B. 11 Hen. IV. 23, 24. See, further, Y.B. 8 Ed. IV. 6,
pl. 5; 9 Ed. IV. 34, pl. 9; 3 Hen. VII. 4, pl. 16; 20 Hen. VII.
1, pl. 1; 21 Hen. VII. 14 b, pl. 23; 13 Co. Rep. 69; 1 Roll. Abr.
4(I), pl. I; F. N. B. 86, n. a; supra, p. 167.

170/3 Fitz. Abr. Barre, pl. 130; Y.B. 9 Ed. IV. 34, pl. 9; 12 Am.
Law Rev. 694.

171/1 2 Steph. Comm. (6th ed.), 83, cited Dicey, Parties, 353; 2
Bl. Comm. 453; 2 Kent, 585. As the bailee recovered the whole
value of the goods, the old reason, that he was answerable over,
has in some cases become a new rule, (seemingly based on a
misunderstanding,) that the bailee is a trustee for the bailor as
to the excess over his own damage. Cf. Lyle v. Barker, 5 Binn.
457, 460; 7 Cowen, 68l, n.; White v. Webb, 15 Conn. 302, 305; in
the order cited. (Thence the new rule has been extended to
insurance recovered by a bailee. 1 Hall, N. Y. 84, 91; 3 Kent's
Comm. (12th ed.), 371, 376, n. 1 (a).) In this form it ceases to
be a reason for allowing the action.

171/2 Y.B. 48 Ed. III. 20, pl. 8; Bro. Trespass, pl. 67. Cf. 1
Britton (Nich. ed.), 67 [26 b]; Y.B. 6 Hen. VI1. 12, pl. 9; 12
Ed. IV. 13, pl. 9; 12 Am. Law Rev. 694.

172/1 Y.B. 22 Ed. IV. 5, pl. 16.

172/2 2 Rolle, Abr. 569, Trespass, 5. Cf. Y.B. 20 Hen. VII. 5,
pl. 15; 21 Hen. VII. 39, pl. 49; Clayton, 135, pl. 243; 2 Wms.
Saund. 47 e (3d ed.).

172/3 Bro. Trespass, pl, 67 in marg.; cf. Ed. Liutpr. 131, cited
supra, p. 166, n.

172/4 In one instance, where, against the opinion of Brian, the
bailor was allowed to sue for damage to the chattel by a
stranger, the action seems to have been case. Y.B. 12 Ed. IV. 13,
pl. 9; cf. the margin of the report.

173/1 Gordon v. Harper, 7 T. R. 9; Lord v. Price, L. IL 9 Ex. 54;
Muggridge v. Eveleth, 9 Met. 233. Cf. Clayton, 135, pl. 243.

173/2 Nicolls v. Bastard, 2 C. M. & R. 659, 660; Manders v.
Williams, 4 Exch. 339, 343, 344; Morgan v. Ide, 8 Cush. 420;
Strong v. Adams, 30 Vt. 221, 223; Little v. Fosseft, 34 Me. 545.

173/3 2 Camp. 464; cf. Mears v. London & South-Western Railway
Co., 11 C.B. N.S. 849, 854.

173/4 Addison, Torts (4th ed.), 364.

174/1 Wms. Pers. Prop., 26 (5th ed.), 27 (7th ed.).

174/2 Booth v. Wilson, I B. & Ald. 59; Y.B. 48 Ed. III. 20, pl.
8; 11 Hen. IV. 17, pl. 39; 11 Hen. IV. 23, 24, pl. 46 (Tre. "ou
d'apprompter"); 21 Hen. VII. 14b, pl. 23; Godbolt, 173, pl. 239;
Sutton v. Buck, 2 Taunt. 302, 309; Burton v. Hughes, 2 Bing. 173;
Nicolls v. Bastard, 2 C. M. & R. 659, 660; Manders v. Williams, 4
Exch. 339, 343, 344; 2 Wms. Saund., note to Wilbraham v. Snow; 2
Kent, 585, 568, 574; Moran v. Portland S. P. Co., 35 Me. 55. See,
further, Lecture VI. ad fin.

175/1 Cf. Lord v. Price, L.R. 9 Ex. 54, 56, supra, p. 172.

175/2 Supra, p. 167.

175/3 Lib. X. c. 13; cf. I., c. 8.

175/4 "Is qui rem commodatam accepit, ad ipsam restituendam
tenetur, vel ejus precium, si forte incendio, ruins, naufragio,
ant latronum, vel hostium incursu, consumpta fuerit vel
deperdita, substracts, vel ablata." Fol. 99 a, b. This has been
thought a corrupt text (Guterbock, Bracton, by Coxe, p. 175; 2
Twiss, Bract. Int. xxviii.), but agrees with Glanvill, supra, and
with Fleta, L. II. c. 56, Section 5.

175/5 Bract., fol. 62 b, c. 28, Section 2; Fleta, L. II. e. 59,
Section 4, fol. 128. Cf. Just. Inst. 3. 24, Section 5; ib. 15,
Section 2.

176/1 Y.B. 8 Ed. II. 275; Fitz. Detinue, pl. 59.

176/2 2 Ld. Raym. 909.

176/3 Y.B. 13 Ed. IV. 9, pl. 5. See Lecture VI.

176/4 29 Ass. 163, pl. 28.

176/5 Cf. Ratcliff v. Davis, Yelv. 178; Cro. Jac. 244; Noy, 137;
1 Bulstr. 29.

176/6 Y.B. 33 Hen. VI. 1, pl. 3. This case is cited and largely
relied on in Woodlife's Case, infra; Southcote v. Bennett, infra;
Pickering v. Barkley, Style, 132 (24 Car. I., covenant on a
charter-party); and Morse v. Slue, infra; in short, in all the
leading cases on bailment.

177/1 Cf. Abbreviatio Plaeitorum, p. 343, col. 2, rot. 87, 17 Ed.
II.

178/1 Y.B. 9 Ed. IV. 34, pl. 9; 2 Ed. IV. 15, pl. 7. It is proper
to add, that in the latter case Littleton does not seem to
distinguish between servants and bailees.

178/2 Y.B. 9 Ed. IV, 40, pl. 22. So Brian, in 20 Ed. IV. 11, pl.
10, ad fin.

178/3 Y.B. 10 Hen. VII. 25, 26, pl. 3.

178/4 Cf. L. Baiw., XV. 5; Y.B. 33 Hen. VI. 1, pl. 3.

178/5 Y.B. 6 Hen. VII. 12, pl. 9; Bro. Detinue, pl. 37; 10 Hen.
VI. 21, pl. 69.

178/6 Y.B. 3 Hen. VII. 4, pl. 16. Cf. 10 Hen. VI. 21, pl. 69.

178/7 Y.B. 11 Hen. IV. 23, 24; 6 Hen. VII. 12, pl. 9.

178/8 Cro. Eliz. 815; 4 Co. Rep. 83 b; Co. Lit. 89; 2 BI. Comm.
452.

180/1 Savile, 133, 134. Cf. Bro. Accion sur le Case, pl. 103;
Dyer, 161 a, b.

180/2 Nugent v. Smith, 1 C.P. D. 19, Brett, J., at p. 28.

180/3 Nugent v. Smith, 1 C.P. D. 423, Cockburn, C. J., at p. 428.

181/1 Moore, 462; Owen, 57.

181/2 Dial. 2, ch. 38, A.D. 1530.

182/1 Keilway, 160, pl. 2 (2 Hen. VIII.); cf. ib. 77b (21 Hen.
VII.).

182/2 Y.B. 33 Hen. VI. 1, pl. 3.

182/3 4 Co. Rep. 83 b; Cro. Eliz. 815.

183/1 Keilway, 160, pl. 2.

183/2 Y.B. 19 Hen. VI. 49, ad fin. Cf. Mulgrave v. Ogden, Cro.
Eliz. 219; S.C., Owen, 141, 1 Leon. 224; with Isaack v. Clark, 2
Bulstr. 306, at p. 312, Coke, J.

183/3 See Lecture VII.

184/1 Paston, J., in Y.B. 19 Hen. VI. 49. See, also, Rogers v.
Head, Cro. Jac. 262; Rich v. Kneeland, Cro. Jac. 330, which will
be mentioned again. An innkeeper must be a common innkeeper, Y.B.
11 Hen. IV. 45. See further, 3 Bl. Comm. 165, where "the
transition from status to contract" will be found to have taken
place.

184/2 F. N. B. 94 D; infra, p. 203.

184/3 Y.B. 7 Hen. IV. 14; 12 Ed. IV. 13, pl. 9, 10; Dyer, 22 b.

184/4 The process may be traced by reading, in the following
order, Y.B. 2 Hen. VII. 11; Keilway, 77 b, ad fin. (21 Hen.
VII.); ib. 160, pl. 2 (2 Hen. VIII.); Drake v. Royman, Savile,
133, 134 (36 Eliz.); Mosley v. Fosset, Moore, 543 (40 Eliz.); 1
Roll. Abr. 4, F, pl. 5; Rich v. Kneeland, Cro. Jac. 330 (11 Jac.
I.).

185/1 Cro. Jac. 262 (8 Jac. I.). Compare Maynard's argument in
Williams v. Hide, Palmer, 548; Symons v. Darknoll, ib. 523, and
other cases below; 1 Roll. Abr. 4, F, pl. 3. Mosley v, Fosset,
Moore, 543 (40 Eliz.); an obscurely reported case, seems to have
been assumpsit against an agistor, for a horse stolen while in
his charge, and asserts obiter that "without such special
assumpsit the action does not lie." This must have reference to
the form of the action, as the judges who decided Southcote's
Case took part in the decision. See, further, Evans v. Yeoman,
Clayton, 33.

186/1 See Symons v. Darknoll, and the second count in Morse v.
Slue infra. (The latter case shows the averment of negligence to
have been mere form.) Cf. I Salk. 18, top.

187/1 Supra, p. 179.

187/2 Boson v. Sandford, Shower, 101; Coggs v. Bernard, infra.

187/3 Symons v. Darknoll, infra.

188/1 Reg. Brev. 92b, 95a, 98a, 100b, 104a; cf. Y.B. 19 Ed. II.
624; 30 Ed. III. 25, 26; 2 Hen. IV. 18, pl. 6; 22 Hen. VI. 21,
pl. 38; 32 & 33 Ed. I., Int., xxxiii.; Brunner, Schwurgerichte,
177; id. Franzosische, Inhaberpapier, 9, n. 1.

188/2 12 Co. Rep. 64.

188/3 See, besides the following cases, the declaration in
Chamberlain v. Cooke, 2 Ventris, 75 (1 W. & M.), and note
especially the variations of statement in Morse v. Slue, set
forth below, in the text.

189/1 Hobart, 17; Cro. Jac. 330. See also George v. Wiburn, 1
Roll. Abr. 6, pl. 4 (A.D. 1638).

190/1 The use which has been made of this case in later times
shows the extreme difficulty in distinguishing between principles
of substantive law and rules relating only to procedure, in the
older books.

190/2 Y.B. 22 Hen. VI. 21, pl. 38; supra, p. 188, n. 1.

191/1 Palmer, 523.

191/2 Palmer, 548.

191/3 Aleyn, 93.

191/4 1 Sid. 36.

192/1 1 Sid. 244. Cf. Dalston v. Janson, 1 Ld. Raym. 58.

192/2 2 Keb. 866; 3 id. 72, 112, 135; 2 Lev. 69; I Vent. 190,
238; 1 Mod. 85; Sir T. Raym. 220.

193/1 2 Keb. 866. See 3 Keb. 74; 1 Mod. 85; Sir T. Raym. 220.

193/2 2 Keb. 72.

193/3 Y.B. 33 Hen. VI. 1; supra, p. 177.

193/4 3 Keble, 73. This is the main point mentioned by Sir T.
Raymond and Levinz.

193/5 Cf. 1 Mod. 85.

194/1 1 Ventris, 238, citing Southcote's Case in the margin. Cf.
3 Keble, 135.

194/2 Aleyn, 93; supra, p. 191.

194/3 See also 1 Hale, P.C. 512, 513.

195/1 King v. Viscount Hertford, 2 Shower, 172, pl. 164; cf.
Woodlife's Case, supra.

195/2 Boson v. Sandford, 1 Shower, 101 (2 W. & M.). See above,
pp. 183,185; below, p. 197. Modern illustrations of the doctrine
will be found in Fleming v. Manchester, Sheffield, &
Lincolnshire Railway Co., 4 Q.B.D. 81, and cases cited. In
Boorman v. Brown, 3 Q.B.511, 526, the reader the primitive
assumpsit, which was the inducement to a declaration in tort,
interpreted as meaning contract in the modern sense. It will be
seen directly that Lord Holt took a different view. Note the mode
of dealing with the Marshal's case, 33 Hen; VI. 1, in Aleyn, 27.

196/1 See Lovett v. Hobbs, 2 Shower, 127 (32 Car. II.);
Chamberlain v. Cooke, 2 Ventris, 75 (1 W. & M.); Boson v.
Sandford, 1 Shower, 101, citing Southcote's Case (2 W. & M.);
Upshare v. Aidee, 1 Comyns, 25 (8 W. III.); Middleton v. Fowler,
I Salk. 288 (10 W. III.).

196/2 12 Mod. 472.

196/3 2 Ld. Raym. 909.

197/1 Powtuary v. Walton, 1 Roll. Abr. 10, pl. 5 (39 Eliz.). Cf.
Keilway, 160.

197/2 2 Ld. Raym. 919. See Lecture VII. How little Lord Holt
meant to adopt the modern view, that delivery, being a detriment
to the owner, was a consideration, may be further seen by
examining the cases put and agreed to by him from the Year Books.

199/1 2 Kent, 598; 1 C.P. D. 429.

199/2 Palmer, 523. See too Keilway, 77 b, and 160, pl. 2, where
the encroachment of case on detinue, and the corresponding
confusion in principle, may be pretty clearly seen taking place.
But see p. 175, supra.

200/1 2 Kent, 597; Forward v. _Pittard, 1 T. R. 27.

200/2 Cf. Y.B. 7 Hen. IV. 14; 2 Hen. VII. 11; Keilway, 77 b, 160,
pl. 2, and other cases already cited.

200/3 Y.B. 41 Ed. III. 3, pl. 8.

200/4 Y.B. 33 Hen. YI. 1, pl. 3.

200/5 Reg. Brev. 107 a, 108 a, 110 a, b; entries cited 1 T. R.
29.

200/6 See above, pp. 167, 175 et seq.; 12 Am. Law Rev. 692, 693;
Y.B. 42 Ed. III. 11, pl. 13; 42 Ass., pl. 17.

201/1 1 Wilson, 282; cf. 2 Kent (12th ed.), 596, n. 1, b.

201/2 Y.B. 33 Hen. VI. 1, pl. 3.

202/1 Mouse's Case, 12 Co. Rep. 63.

202/2 Bird v. Astcock, 2 Bulstr. 280; cf. Dyer, 33 a, pl. 10;
Keighley's Case, 10 Co. Rep. 139 b, 140.

202/3 Y.B. 40 Ed. III. 5, 6, pl. 11; see also Willams v. Hide,
Palmer, 548; Shep. Touchst. 173.

203/1 See Safe Delcosit Company of Pittsburgh v. Pollock, 85
Penn. 391.

203/2 Paston, J., in Y.B. 21 Hen. VI. 55; Keilway, 50 a, pl. 4;
Hardres, 163.

203/3 Lane v. Cotton, 1 Ld. Raym. 646, 654; 1 Salk. 18; 12 Mod.
484.

204/1 Forward v. Pittard, 1 T. R. 27, 83.

205/1 Printing and Numerical Registering Co. v. Sampson, L.R. 19
Eq. 462, 465.

207/1 Possession, Section 6, Eng. tr., pp. 27, 28.

207/2 R. d. Besitzes, 487.

208/1 R. d. Besitzes, 490, 491.

208/2 Bruns, R. d. Besitzes, 415; Windscheid, Pand. Section 148,
n. 6. Further Hegelian discourse may be found in Dr. J. Hutchison
Sterling's Lectures on the Philosophy of Law.

208/3 Institutionen, Sections 224, 226; Windscheid, Pand. Section
148, n. 6.

208/4 Windscheid, Pand. Section 148, n. 6.

208/5 Besitzklagen, 276, 279.

209/1 Bruns, R. d. Besitzes, 499.

209/2 Bruns, R. d. Besitzes, Section 2, pp. 5 et seq.; Puchta,
Besitz, in Weiske, Rechtslex.; Windscheid, Pand. Section 154,
pp. 461 et seq. (4th ed.).

209/3 D. 41.2.3, Section 20; 13.6.8 & 9. Cf. D. 41.1.9, Section 5.

210/1 But see Ihering, Geist d. Rom. R., Section 62, French tr.,
IV. p. 51.

210/2 Heusler thinks this merely a result of the English
formalism and narrowness in their interpretation of the word suo
in the writ (disseisivit de teuemento suo). Gewere, 429-432. But
there was no such narrowness in dealing with catalla sua in
trespass. See below, p. 242.

210/3 See, further, Bracton, fol. 413; Y.B. 6 Hen. VII. 9, pl. 4.

211/1 Infra, p. 243.

211/2 R. d. Besitzes, 494.

212/1 Rogers v. Spence, 13 M. & W. 579, 581.

212/2 Webb v. Fox, 7 T. R. 391, 397.

212/3 Fennings v. Lord Grenville, 1 Taunt. 241; Littledale v.
Scaith, ib. 243, n. (a); cf. Hogarth v. Jackson, M. & M. 58;
Skinner v. Chapman, ib. 59, n.

212/4 Swift v. Gifford, 2 Lowell, 110.

212/5 1 Taunt. 248.

213/1 Cf. Wake, Evolution of Morality, Part I. ch. 4, pp. 296 et
seq.

215/1 Asher v. Whitlock, L.R. 1 Q.B.1.

215/2 People v. Shearer, 30 Cal. 645.

217/1 2 Kent's Comm. 349, citing Pierson v. Post, 3 Caines, (N.
Y.) 175; Buster v. Newkirk, 20 Johnson, (N. Y.) 75.

217/2 Young v. Hichens, 6 Q.B.606.

217/3 2 Kent's Comm. 349, n. (d).

218/1 Inst. 2. 1, Section 13.

218/2 Swift v. Gifford, 2 Lowell, 110.

218/3 Savigny, R. d. Besitzes, Section 21.

218/4 II. 9, Section 4; III. 29, Section 2. Animus domini will be
used here as shortly indicating the general nature of the intent
required even by those who deny the fitness of the expression, and
especially because Savigny's opinion is that which has been
adopted by English writers.

219/1 Cf. Bruns, R. d. Besitzes, 413, and ib. 469, 474, 493, 494,
505; Windscheid, Pand. Section 149, n. 5 (p. 447, 4th ed.);
Puchta, Inst. Section 226.

219/2 Supra, p. 207; 2 Puchta, Inst. Section 226 (5th ed.), pp.
545, 546.

221/1 15 Jur. 1079; 21 L. J. Q.B.75; 7 Eng. L. & Eq. 424.

222/1 11 Allen, 548.

223/1 Kincaid v. Eaton, 98 Mass. 139.

223/2 Barker v. Bates, 13 Pick. 255, 257, 261; Proctor v. Adams,
113 Mass. 376, 377; 1 Bl. Comm. 297, Sharsw. ed., n. 14. Cf.
Blades v. Hiqgs, 13 C.B. N.S. 844, 847, 848, 850, 851; 11 H. L.
C. 621; Smith v. Smith, Strange, 955.

223/3 Reg. v. Rowe, Bell, C.C. 93.

224/1 See, as to treasure hidden in another's land, D. 41. 2. 44,
pr.; D. 10. 4. 15. Note the different opinions in D. 41.2. 3,
Section 3.

224/2 3 Inst. 107; 1 Hale, P.C. 504, 505; 2 Bishop, Crim. Law,
Sections 834, 860 (6th ed.).

224/3 Reg. v. Middleton, L.R. 2 C.C. 38, 55. Cf. Halliday v.
Holgate, L.R. 3 Ex. 299, 302.

224/4 Cf. Y.B. 8 Ed. II. 275; Fitzh. Abr. Detinue, ph 59; Y.B. 13
Ed. IV. 9, pl. 5; Keilway, 160, pl. 2; Merry v. Green, 7 M. & W.
623, 630. It may not be necessary to go quite so far, however,
and these cases are not relied on as establishing the theory. For
wrong explanations, see 2 East, P.C. 696.

225/1 Durfee v. Jones, 11 R. I. 588.

225/2 Reg. v. Rowe, Bell, C.C. 93, stated above.

225/3 8 Ves. 405; 7 M. & W. 623; Stephen, Crim. Law, Art. 281,
Ill. (4), p. 197. He says, "because [the owner of the safe]
cannot be presumed to intend to act as the owner of it when he
discovers it,"--a reason drawn from Savigny, but not fitted to
the English law, as has been shown.

226/1 Y.B. 13 Ed. IV. 9, 10, pl. 5; 21 Hen. VII. 14, pl. 21. Cf.
3 Hen. VII. 12, pl. 9; Steph. Crim. Law, Art. 297, and App., note
xvii.

226/2 Steph. Crtre. Law, Art. 297, and App., note xvii. p. 882.
It may be doubted whether the old law would have sanctioned the
rule in this form. F. N. B. 91 E; Y.B. 2 Ed. IV. 15, pl. 7.

226/3 Y.B. 21 Hen. VII. 14, pl. 21; 13 Co. Rep. 69.

227/1 They have been said to be a part of the family pro hac
vice. Southcote v. Stanley, 1 H. & N. 247, 250. Cf. Y.B. 2 Hen.
IV. 18, pl. 6.

227/2 Moore, 248, pl. 392; S.C., Owen, 52; F. N. B. 91 E; 2 B1.
Comm. 396; 1 H. Bl. 81, 84; 1 Chitty, Pl. 170 (1st ed.); Dicey,
Parties, 358; 9 Mass. 104; 7 Cowen, 294; 3 S. & R. 20; 13
Iredell, 18; 6 Barb. 362, and cases cited. Some of the American
cases have been denied, on the ground that the custodian was not
a servant. Cf. Holiday v. Hicks, Cro. Eliz. 638, 661, 746; Drope
v. Theyar, Popham, 178, 179.

228/1 Bracton, fol. 6 a, Section 3, 12 a, 17 a, Cap. V. ad fin.,
25 a, b, etc.; Pucbra, Inst. Section 228.

228/2 See also 7 Am. Law Rev. 62 et seq.; 10 Am. Law Rev. 431; 2
Kent, Comm. (12th ed.), 260, n. 1.

228/3 1 Comm. 427. Cf. Preface to Paley on Agency. Factors are
always called servants in the old books, see, e. g., Woodlife's
Case, Owen, 57; Holiday v. Hicks, Cro. Eliz. 638; Southcote's
Case, 4 Co. Rep. 83 b, 84 a; Southern v. How, Cro. Jac. 468; St.
21 Jac. I., c. 16, Section 3; Morse v. Slue, 3 Keble, 72. As to
bailiffs, see Bract. 26 b, "Reestituat domino, vel servienti,"
etc.; Y.B. 7 Hen. IV. 14, pl. 18.

229/1 Paley, Agency, c. 4, Section 1, citing Godbolt, 360. See,
further, F. N. B. 120, G; Fitzh. Abr. Dette, pl. 3; Y.B. 8 Ed.
IV. 11, pl. 9. These rules seem to be somewhat modern even as to
servants. The liability of a master for debts contracted by his
servant is very narrowly limited in the earlier Year Books.

230/1 I am inclined to think that this extension has been largely
due to the influence of the Roman law. See Lecture I. p. 20, n.
1, and observe the part which the precedents as to fire (e. g.,
Y.B. 2 Hen. IV. 18, pl. 6) have played in shaping the modern
doctrine of master and servant. Tuberville v. Stampe, I Ld. Raym.
264 (where Lord Holt's examples are from the Roman law); Brucker
v. Fromont, 6 T. R. 659; M'Manus v. Crickett, 1 East, 106; Patten
v. Rea, 2 C.B. N.S. 606. In Southern v. How, Popham, 143, Doctor
and Student is referred to for the general principles of
liability. Doctor and Student states Roman law. See, further,
Boson v. Sandford, 1 Shower, 101, 102.

230/2 Bac. Ahr. Master and Servant, K; Smith, Master and Servant
(3d ed.), 260, n. (t).

230/3 Clapp v. Kemp, 122 Mass. 481; Murray v. Currie, L.R. 6 C.P.
24, 28; Hill v. Morey, 26 Vt. 178.

230/4 See, e.g., Patten v. Rea, 2 C.B. N.S. 606; Bolingbroke v.
Swindon Local Board, L.R. 9 C.P. 575.

230/5 Freeman v. Rosher, 13 Q.B.780, 785; Gauntlett v. King, 3 C.
B. N.S. 59; Haseler v. Lemoyne, 28 L. J. C.P. 103; Collett v.
Foster, 2 H. & N. 356; Barwick v. English Joint Stock Bank, L.R.
2 Ex. 259, 265, 266; Lucas v. Mason, L.R. 10 Ex. 251, 253, last
paragraph; Mackay v. Commercial Bank of New Brunswick, L.R. 5
P.C. 394, 411, 412. So as to partners, 3 Kent's Comm. (12th ed.),
46, notes (d) & 1.

231/1 Bush v. Steinman, 1 B. & P. 404, 409.

231/2 6 M. & W. 358. Cf. Udell v. Atherton, 7 H. & N. 172, 184,
for a comment like that in the text. Other grounds for the
decision are immaterial here.

231/3 Mackay v. Commercial Bank of New Brunswick, L.R. 5 P.C.
394; Barwick v. English Joint Stock Bank, L.R. 2 Ex. 259; Western
Bank of Scotland v. Addie, L.R. 1 H. L. Sc. 145; 2 Kent (12th
ed.), 616, n. 1; Swift v. Jewsbury, L.R. 9 Q.B.301, overruling
S.C. sub nom. Swift v. Winterbotham, L.R. 8 Q.B.244; Weir v.
Bell, 3 Ex. D. 238, 244. The objections which Baron Bramwell
mentions (L.R. 9 Q.B.815) to holding one man liable for the
frauds of another, are objections to the peculiar consequences
attaching to the relation of master and servant in general, and
have been urged in that more general form by the same learned
judge. 12 Am. Law Rev. 197, 200; 2 H. & N. 856, 361. See 7 Am.
Law Rev. 61, 62.

231/3 7 Am. Law Rev. 63 (Oct. 1872).

232/1 D. 44. 2. 4, note 17, Elzevir ed.

232/2 Hunter's Roman Law, 431.

232/3 Ancient Hist. of Inst. 235.

232/4 Cf. Gillett v. Ball, 9 Penn. St. 13; Craig v. Gilbreth, 47
Me. 416; Nickolson v. Knowles, 5 Maddock, 47; Williams v. Port,
L.R. 12 Eq. 149; Adams v. Jones, 12 Ad. & El. 455; Bracton, fol.
28 b, 42 b, 43. And compare with the passage cited above from
Blackstone: "Possider, cujus riomine possidetur, procurator
alienae possessioni praestat ministerium." D. 41. 2. 18, pr.

233/1 Ward v. Macaulay, 4 T. R. 489, 490. Cf. as to factors
supra, p. 228.

233/2 Berndtson v. Strang, L.R. 3 Ch. 588, 590.

233/3 Blackburn, Sale, 33; Marvin v. Wallis, 6 El. & Bl. 726.

233/4 D. 41. 2. 18, pr. "Quod meo nomine possideo, possum alieno
nomine possidere: nec enim muto mihi causam possessionis, sed
desino possidere et alium possessorem ministerio meo facio. Nec
idem est possidere et alieno nomine possidere: nam possidet,
cujus nomine possidetur, procurator alienae possessioni praestat
ministerium." Thus showing that the vendor changed possession by
holding in the name of the purchaser, as his agent to possess.
Cf. Bracton, fol. 28 b.

233/4 Windscheid, Pand. Section 155, n. 8 a; 2 Kent (12th ed.),
492, n. 1 (a). It should be kept in mind also that the Roman
law denied possession to bailees.

234/1 See, e. g., Farina v. Home, 16 M. & W. 119, 123.

235/1 McGahey v. Moore, 3 Ired. (N. C.) 35.

235/2 Reader v. Moody, 3 Jones, (N. C.) 372. Cf. Basset v.
Maynard, Cro. Eliz. 819, 820.

235/3 Browne v. Dawson, 12 A. & E. 624. Cf. D. 43. 16. 17; ib. 3,
Section 9; D. 41. 2. 18, Section 3; Clayton, 147, pl. 268.

236/1 Cf. Bruns, R. d. Besitzes, 503.

237/1 Clark v. Maloney, 3 Harrington (Del.), 68. Bruns (R. d.
Besitzes, 503, 507) comes to the same conclusion on practical
grounds of convenience, although he utterly repudiates it on
theory. I must refer to what I said above touching these
conflicts between theory and convenience.

238/1 Bruns, R. d. Besitzes, Section 57, p. 486. A learned writer
of more ancient date asks why a doctor has not a possessory action
if you cease to employ him, and answers: "Sentio actionem non
tenere, sed sentio tantum, nec si vel morte mineris, possum
dicere quare. Tu lector, si sapis, rationes decidendi suggere."
Hommel, Rhaps., qu. 489, cited, Bruns, 407.

239/1 Gardiner v. Thibodeau, 14 La. An. 732.

239/2 Bruns, 483.

240/1 2 Kent (12th ed.), 205, n. 1. Cf. Y.B. 21 Hen. VI. 8, 9,
pl. 19; American note to Scott v. Shepherd, in 1 Sm. L. C. (Am.
ed.).

240/2 Britton (Nich. ed.), I. 277 (cf. Bract., fol. 164 b; Fleta,
fol. 214; Glanv., Lib. XIII. c. 37); Littleton, Sections 237-240,
588, 589; 3 Bl. Comm. 170; 3 Cruise, Dig., tit. xxviii.,
Rents, ch. 2, Section 34.

241/1 See Lecture XI.

241/2 Cf. Stockport Water Works v. Potter, 3 H. & C. 300, 318.
The language in the seventh English edition of 1 Sm. L. C., 300,
is rather too broad. If the law should protect a possessor of
land in the enjoyment of water coming to it, it would do so
because the use of the water was regarded as a part of the
enjoyment of that land, and would by no means imply that it would
do the same in the case just put of a way over land of another.

242/1 Jefferies v. Great Western Railway Co., 5 El. & B1. 802.
Cf. Armory v. Delamirie, 1 Strange, 505, 1 Sm. L. C.

242/2 Co. Lit. 145 b.

242/3 2 Wms. Saund. 47 b, note 1, to Wilbraham v. Snow.

242/4 Bract., fol. 150 b, 151; supra, p. 168; Y.B. 22 Ed. I.
466-468.

242/5 Y.B. 48 Ed. III. 20; 11 Hen. IV. 17; 11 Hen. IV. 23, 24; 21
Hen. VII. 14. The meaning of sua is discussed in Y.B. 10 Ed. IV.
1, B, by Catesby. Compare Laband, Vermogensrechtlichen Klagen,
111; Heusler, Gewere, 492 et seq., correcting Bruns, R. d.
Besitzes, 300 et seq.; Sohm, Proc. d. L. Sal., Section 6.

243/1 Y.B. 11 Hen. IV. 17, pl. 39.

243/2 Y.B. 21 Hen. VII. 14 b, pl. 23.

243/3 Godbolt, 173, pl. 239. Cf. 11 Hen. IV. 17, pl. 39.

243/4 Bro. Abr. Trespass, pl. 433, cit. Y.B. 13 Hen. VII. 10.

243/5 Kelyng, 89. See, further, Buller, N. P. 33.

243/6 Lecture V.; Y.B. 20 Hen. VII. 1, pl. 11.

243/7 Y.B. 21 lien. VII. 14 b, pl. 23.

243/8 1 Roll. Abr. 4, 5 (I), pl. 1. Cf. Arnold v. Jefferson, 1
Ld. Raym. 275.

244/1 29 Ass., fol. 163, pl. 28.

244/2 Southcote's Case, 4 Co. Rep. 83 b.

244/3 Mores v. Conham, Owen, 123. Cf. Ratcliff v. Davis, I
Bulstr. 29.

244/4 Doe v. Dyball, Mood. & M. 346 and note; 2 Wms. Saund. 111,
and later notes; I Ad. & El. 119; Asher v. Whitlock, L.R. 1
Q.B.1.

244/5 Graham v. Peat, 1 East, 244.

245/1 As to this period see Heusler, Gewere. Cf. Laveleye,
Propriete, 166.

248/1 2 Hist. du Droit Franc., pp. 146 et seq, 152.

248/2 Anciens Poetes de la France, (Guessard,) p. 71.

248/3 Page 283; cf. 284, cxviii, et seq., 44, lxix.

249/1 Sohm, Proc. d. Lex. Sal., Sections 15, 23-25, tr. Thevenin,
pp. 80, 105, 122.

249/2 Essays in A. S. Law, p. 292.

249/3 Cap. VIII., Merkel, p. 48.

249/4 Cap. LXXXIX. Section 3, Essays in A. S. Law, p. 291.

249/5 Chap. IV. Section 16.

250/1 Fitzh. Abr. Mainprise, pl. 12 (H. 33 Ed. III.);
Staundforde, P.C. 65.

250/2 Abbr. Plac., p. 343, col 2, rot. 37, 17 Ed. II.

250/3 Jacob, L. D., "Bail." Cf. I Bulstr. 45; .Hawkins, P.C., II.
ch. 15, Section 83; Abbr. Plac., p. 343, col. 2, rot. 37, 17 Ed.
II.

250/4 Highmore, Bail, p. 199; Jacob, L. D., "Bail." Cf. 2
Laferriere, Hist. du Droit Franc., p. 148.

250/5 Highmore, p. 195.

250/6 Ibid., p. 200.

252/1 Vermoegensrechtlichen Klagen.

253/1 II. c. 60, Section 25. Glanvill's "justa debendi causa"
(Lib. X.
c. 4) seems remote from consideration.

254/1 Y.B. 3 Hen. VI. 36.

254/2 Y.B. 37 Hen. VI. 13, pl. 3.

254/3 Y.B. 37 Hen. VI. 8, pl. 33.

254/4 Glanv., Lib. X. c. 12; Bract, fol. 400b, Section 10; 22
Ass., pl. 70, fol. 101.

255/1 Essays in A. S. Law, 187.

256/1 I. 45; III. 10.

256/2 Lib. X. e. 17. Suit, secta, was the term applied to the
persons whose oath the party tendered.

257/1 Lib. X. c. 12 (Beames, p. 262); c. 8 & c. 5 (Beames, pp.
256, 251); cf. IV. c. 6, where witnesses are tendered de visu et
auditu. Cf. Bract., 315 b, Section 6 Fleta, II. c. 63, Section10,
p. 137. It was no doubt true, as Glanvill says, Lib. X. c. 17,
that the usual mode of proof was by a writing or by duel, and
that the King's Court did not generally give protection to private
agreements made anywhere except in the Court of the King (Lib. X.
c. 8). But it can hardly be that debts were never established by
witness in his time, in view of the continuous evidence from
Bracton onwards.

257/2 But cf. Brunner, Schwurgerichte, 399. I do not go so far as
to say that they were still a living institution. However that
may be, tradition must at least have modelled itself on what had
been the function of the former official body.

257/3 Bract., fol. 315 b, Section 6; Britt. (Nich.) I. p. 162;
Magna Charta, c. 38; Y.B. 21 Ed. I. 456; 7 Ed. II. 242;
18 Ed. II. 582; 3 Bl. Comm. 295, 344. Cf. 17 Ed. III. 48 b.

257/4 Cf. Glanv., Lib. IV. c. 6.

258/1 Lib. X. c. 18. It is possible that this means no more than
Glanvill's often repeated statement, that the King's Court did
not, generally speaking, take cognizance of private agreements.
The substantive law was, perhaps, still limited by traditions
from the infancy of contract. See pp. 248, 251, 259, 260. The
proposition in its broadest form may have been based on the
inability to try such agreements in any way but those which have
been specified. Cf. the requirement of aliam diracionationem and
aliis probationibus, in Lib. X. c. 12. But cf. Ibid. with Essays
in A. S. Law, pp. 189, 190.

259/1 Sharington v. Strotton, Plowden, 298, at p. 302, M. 7 & 8
Eliz.

259/2 Pillans v. Van Mierop, 3 Burrow, 1663, 1669.

260/1 1 Thorpe, Anc. Laws, 181, Oaths, 7, 8.

260/2 Glanv., Lib. X. c. 5 (Beames, p. 251); Y.B. 7 Ed. II. 242;
Novae Narr. Dette-Vers plege, Rastell's Law Tracts, p. 253, D, 2
Finl. Reeves, 376.

261/1 Glanv., Lib. X. c. 22 (Beames, p. 263); Bract., fol. 398 b,
Section 1. The favorite proof by duel was also allowed, but this
disappeared. When the inquest became general, the execution of
the deed was tried, like any other fact, by that means.

261/2 Bract., fol. 315 b, Section 6, 400 b; Coke, 2d Inst., 44,
45.

262/1 Glanv., Lib. X. c. 12 (Beames, p. 263); Bract., fol. 100 b,
Section 9.

262/2 Glanv., Lib. X. c. 17 (Beames, p. 272).

262/3 Bract., fol. 400 b, Section 9.

262/4 Cf. Y.B. 20 Ed. I. 304, and 34 Ed. II., 150, 152; ib. 330,
332; 35 Ed. I. 546.

263/1 Bract., fol. 400 b, Section 8.

263/2 Cf. Y.B. 20 Ed. I. 304.

263/3 Cap. 28; 32 & 33 Ed. I. 516; 18 Ed. II. 582; Fleta, II. c,
63, Section 9; Coke, 2d Inst., 44; 3 Bl. Comm. 344.

263/4 Y.B. 18 Ed. II. 582; 17 Ed. III. 48 b, pl. 14.

264/1 Y.B. 29 Ed. III. 25, 26; cf. 48 Ed. III. 6, pl. 11; Fleta,
II. c. 60, Section 25; Glanvill, Lib. X. c. 12.

264/2 Cf. Bro..Acc. sur le Case, pl. 5; S.C., 27 Hen. VIII. 24,
25, pl. 3.

264/3 Y.B. 18 Ed. III. 13, pl. 7.

264/4 Y.B. 44 Ed. III. 21, pl. 23.

264/5 F. N. B. 122, I, in margin. Cf. F. N. B. 122 K; Y.B. 43 Ed.
III. 11, pl. 1; S.C., Bro. Pledges, pl. 3; 9 Hen. V. 14, pl. 23.

265/1 Y.B. 17 Ed. III. 48 b, pl. 14. Cf. Fortescue (Amos), 67,
n.; 3 Bl. Comm. 295.

265/2 For limit, see Constit. of Clarendon, c. 15; Glanv., Lib.
X. c. 8, 12; Y.B. 22 Ass., pl. 70, fol. 101; 45 Ed. III. 24, pl.
30; 19 R. II., Fitzh. Abr. Dett, pl. 166; 37 Hen. VI. 8, pl. 18;
14 Ed. IV. 6, pl. 3; 15 Ed. IV. 32, pl. 14; 19 Ed. IV. 10, pl.
18; 20 Ed. IV. 3, pl. 17.

266/1 See for an illustration 2 Kent's Comm. (12th ed.), 451, n.
1 (b).

266/2 Repromittatur, but cf. pro servitio tuo vel pro homagio,
Fleta, II. c. 60, Section 25.

267/1 Y.B. 29 Ed. III. 25, 26. But cf. 48 Ed. III. 3, pl. 6.

267/2 19 R. II., Fitzh. Abr. Dett, pl. 166.

267/3 Y.B. 12 Hen. IV. 17, pl. 13, ad fin.

267/4 Y.B. 9 Hen. V. 14, pl. 23.

267/5 (Cf. 13 Ed. II. 403; 17 Ed. IIL 48, pl. 14; 29 Ed. III. 25,
26.) 41 Ed. III. 7, pl. 15; 46 Ed. III. 6, pl. 16; Fitzh. Abr.
Dett, pl. 166.

267/6 Y.B. 3 Hen, VI. 36, pl. 33.

268/1 Y.B. 37 Hen. VI. 8, pl. 18.

268/2 E. g., Rolfe in Y.B. 3 Hen. VI. 36, pl. 23.

269/1 Y.B. 37 Hen. VI. 8, pl. 18. Cf. Bro. Feoffements al Uses,
pl. 54; Plowden, 301.

269/2 Y.B. 15 Ed. IV. 32, pl. 14; (S.C., 14 Ed. IV. 6, pl. 3;) 17
Ed. 4, pl. 4.

269/3 Cf. Y.B. 37 Hen. VI. 8, pl. 18; 17 Ed. IV. 4, 5; Plowden,
305, 306.

269/4 Y.B. 3 Hen. VI. 36, pl. 33.

269/5 Y.B. 37 Hen. VI. 13.

269/6 As to requirement of certain sum, cf. Y.B. 12 Ed. II. 375;
Fleta, II. c. 60, Section 24.

270/1 Y.B. 29 Ed. III. 25, 26; 40 Ed. III. 24, pl. 27; 43 Ed.
II1. 2, pl. 5.

270/2 Y.B. 43 Ed. III. 2, pl. 5; 46 Ed. III. 25, pl. 10; 50 Ed.
III. 5, pl. 11.

270/3 Cf. Glanv., Lib. X. c. 8; Fleta, II. c. 60, Section 25.

270/4 Y.B. 35 Ed. I. 454; 12 Ed. II. 375.

272/1 Ducange, "Sigilium"; Ingulph. 901.

272/2 Big. Pl. Ang. Norm. 177.

272/3 Big. Pl. Ant. Norm. 177; Bract., fol. 100 b, Section 9,
"scriptura." But cf. Y.B. 30 Ed. I. 158; Fleta, II. c. 60,
Section 25.

272/4 Y.B. 33 Ed. I. 354, 356; 35 Ed. I. 455, top; 41 Ed. III. 7,
pl. 15; 44 Ed. III. 21, pl. 23. Cf. 39 Hen. VI. 34, pl. 46.

272/5 Y.B. 7 Ed. I. 242. Cf. 35 Ed. I. 452.

272/6 Cf. Bract., fol. 100 b, Section 9.

272/7 Cf. Glanv., Lib. X. c. 12; Dugdale, Antiq. Warwic. 673,
cited Ducange, "Sigillum"; Bract., fol. 396 b, Section 3; I Britt.
(Nich.)163, Section 17; Abbrev. Plac. 8 Joh., Berk. rot. 4, pp.
55, 56; ib. 19 Ed. I., Norf. & Surf. rot. 7, p. 284; ib. Index
"Sigillum."

272/8 Y.B. 30 Ed. I. 158; Fleta, II. c. 60, Section 25, p. 130.

273/1 45 Ed. III. 24, pl. 30.

273/2 Bract., fol. 100 b, Section 9.

275/1 Cf. 5 Co. Rep. 13 b, 14 a, with 1 Roll. Rep. 126, 128; Y.B.
43 Ed. III 30, pl. 15.

275/2 Y.B. 46 Ed. III. 19, pl. 19; S.C. Bro. Acc. sur le Case,
pl. 22.

275/3 Y.B. 22 Ass., pl. 4i, fol. 94.

276/1 Y.B. 43 Ed. III. 33, pl. 38.

277/1 Y.B. 11 Hen. IV. 33, pl. 60.

277/2 Y.B. 3 Hen. VI. 36, pl. 33.

277/3 Y.B. 2 Hen. IV. 3, pl. 9; 11 Hen. IV. 33, pl. 60. Cf. 3
Hen. VI. 36, 83.

279/1 Cf. 19 Hen. VI. 49, pl. 5 ad fin., Newton, C. J.

280/1 Cf. Y.B. 48 Ed. III. 6, pl. 11.

280/2 Cases supra; Y.B. 2 Hen. IV. 3, pl. 9; 11 Hen. IV. 33. Cf.
3 Hen. VI. 36, pl. 33; 20 Hen. VI. 34, pl. 4; 2 Hen. VII. 11, pl.
9.

281/1 Y.B. 48 Ed. III. 6, pl. 11. Cf. Fitzh. Abr. Acc. sur le
case, pl. 37, 11 R. II; 14 Hen. VI. 18. But cf. 43 Ed. III. 33,
pl. 38.

282/1 Cf. Candish's reasons for allowing wager of law with Y.B.
32 & 33 Ed. I., Preface, p. xxxvi., citing the old rules of
pleading printed at the end of the tract entitled, Modus tenendi
unum Hundredum sire Curiam de Recordo, in Rastell's Law Tracts,
p. 410, E, F, G.

282/2 Y.B. 3 Hen. VI. 36, pl. 33.

282/3 Y.B. 2 Hen. IV. 3, pl. 9; 11 Hen. IV. 33, pl. 60; 3 Hen.
VI. 36, pl. 33.

282/4 3 Hen. VI. 36, pl. 33.

283/1 Y.B. 14 Hen. VI. 18, pl. 58.

283/2 Ibid. Cf. 48 Ed. III 6, pl. 11.

283/3 Y.B. 19 Hen. VI. 49, pl. 5. See, further, Y.B. 20 Hen. VI.
25, pl. 11.

284/1 Cf. Y.B. 3 Hen. VI. 36, pl. 33.

284/2 Y.B. 2 Hen. VII. 11, pl. 9. Cf. 20 Hen. VI. 34, pl. 4.

284/3 Cf. Y.B. 14 Hen. VI. 18, pl. 58; 21 Hen. VII. 41, pl. 66,
Fineux, C. J.

284/4 Keilway, 160, pl. 2 (2 Hen. VIII.); Powtuary v. Walton, 1
Roll. Abr. 10, pl. 5 (39 Eliz.); Coggs v. Bernard, 2 Ld. Raym.
909 (2 Anne, A.D. 1703). Supra, p. 195.

285/1 Sands v. Trevilian, Cro. Car. 193, 194 (Mich. 4 Car. I.,
A.D. 1629).

285/2 Bro. Acc. sur le Case, pl. 5; S.C., Y.B. 27 Hen. VIII. 24,
25, pl. 3; Sidenham v. Worlington, 2 Leon. 224, A.D. 1585.

285/3 Y.B. 21 Hen. VII. 30, pl. 5; ib. 41, pl. 66.

285/4 Y.B. 3 Hen. VI. 36, pl. 33.

286/1 Sharington v. Strotton, Plowden, 298 (Mich. 7 & 8 Eliz.);
ib. 309, note on "the civil law."

286/2 Hunt v. Bate, 3 Dyer, 272 a (10 Eliz., A.D. 1568).

286/3 See Lecture VIII. Mr. Langdell, Contracts, Sections 92, 94,
suggests the ingenious explanation for this doctrine, that it was
then held that no promise could be implied in fact from the
request. There may be evidence which I do not know, but the case
cited (Bosden v. Thinne, Yelv. 40) for this statement was not
decided until A.D. 1603, while the implication of Hunt v. Bate,
supra, which was the authority followed by the cases to be
explained, is all the other way.

286/4 Sidenham v. Worlington, 2 Leon. 224, A.D. 1585.

287/1 Read v. Baxter, 3 Dyer, 272 b, n. (26 & 27 Eliz.). Cf.
Richards and Bartlet's Case, 1 Leon. 19 (26 Eliz.).

287/2 Bro. Acc. sur le Case, pl. 5; S.C., Y.B. 27 Hen. VIII. 24,
25, pl. 3; 3 Dyer, 272, n.

287/3 Marsh v. Rainsford, 3 Dyer, 272 b, n.; S.C., 2 Leon. 111,
and Cro. Eliz. 59, sub. nom. Marsh v. Kavenford.

287/4 Smith and Smith's Case, 3 Leon. 88, A.D. 1583; Riches and
Briggs, Yelv. 4, A.D. 1601; Pickas v. Guile, Yelv. 128, A.D.
1608.

288/1 Supra, p. 195. Lord Coke's caution not to rely on the
abridgments is very necessary to the proper study of the history
of consideration. The abridgments apply the doctrine to cases
which make no mention of it, and which were decided before it was
ever heard of.

290/1 Y.B. 46 Ed. III. 19, pl. 19; 19 Hen. VI. 49, pl. 5;
Keilway, 160, pl. 2; Powtuary v. Walton, 1 Roll. Abr. 10, pl. 5;
Coggs v. Bernaard, 2 Ld. Raym. 909.

290/2 Riches and Briggs, Yelv. 4, A.D. 1601; Pickas v. Guile,
Yelv. 128.

291/1 Bainbridge v. Firmstone, 8 Ad. & El. 743, A.D. 1838.

291/2 Wilkinson v. Oliveira, 1 Bing. N. C. 490, A.D. 1835; Haigh
v. Brooks, 10 Ad. & El. 309; lb. 323; Hart v. Miles, 4 C.B. N.S.
371, A.D. 1858.

291/3 Wheatley v. Low, Cro. Jac. 668, A.D. 1623. Cf. Byne and
Playne's Case, 1 Leon. 220, 221 (32 & 33 Eliz.).

291/4 Wilkinson v. Oliveira, 1 Bing. N. C. 490; Haigh v. Brooks,
10 Ad. & El. 309; Hart v. Miles, 4 C.B. N.S. 371; 6 Am. Law Rev.
47, Oct. 1871.

292/1 Supra, pp. 196, 197. See also Lecture VII.

292/2 Byles, J., in Shadwell v. Shadwell, 30 L. J. C.P. 145, 149.

292/3 Shadwell v. Shadwell, ubi supra; Burr v. Wilcox, 13 Allen,
269, 272, 273.

292/4 Thomas v. Thomas, 2 Q.B.851.

293/1 Price v. Jenkins, 5 Ch. D. 619. Cf. Grabbe v. Moxey, 1 W.
R. 226; Thomas v. Thomas, 2 Q.B.851; Monahan, Method of Law, 141
et seq.

294/1 Ellis v. Clark, 110 Mass. 389.

294/2 Fitch v. Snedaker, 38 N. Y. 248, criticising Williaws v.
Carwardine, 4 Barn. & Ad. 621, where, however, it does not appear
that the plaintiff did not know of the offer of a reward, but
merely that the jury found that she was in fact actuated by other
motives, a finding wholly beside the mark.

296/1 Y.B. 29 Ed. III. 25, 26.

296/2 19 R. II., Fitzh. Abr. Dett, pl. 166.

296/3 Hunt v. Bate, Dyer, 272, A.D. 1568.

297/1 See Barker v. Halifax, Cro. Eliz. 741; S.C. 3 Dyer, 272 a,
n. 32.

297/2 Sidenham v. Worlington, 2 Leonard, 224; Bosden v. Thinne,
Yelv. 40; Lampleigh v. Brathwait, Hobart, 105; Langdell, Cas. on
Contr. (2d ed.), ch. 2, Section 11, Summary, Sections 90 et seq.
See above, Lecture VII. p. 286.

297/3 Pollock, Contr. (lst ed.), p. 6.

298/1 Canham v. Barry, 15 C.B. 597, 619; Jones v. How, 9 C.B. 1,
9; Com. Dig. Condition, D. 2; I Roll. Abr. 420 (D), pl. 1; Y.B.
22 Ed. IV. 26, pl. 6.

301/1 Gee v. Lancashire & Yorkshire Railway Co., 6 H. & N. 211,
218, Bramwell, B. Cf. Hydraulic Engineering Co. v. McHaffie, 4
Q.B.D. 670, 674, 676.

301/2 British Columbia Saw-Mill Co. v. Nettleship, L.R. 3 C.P.
499, 509, Willes, J.; Horne v. Midland Railway Co., L.R. 7 C.P.
583, 591; S.C., L.R. 8 C.P. 131.

302/1 British Columbia Saw-Mill Co. v. Nettleship, L.R. 3 C.P.
499, 509.

304/1 Cheale v. Kenward, 3 DeG. & J. 27.

304/2 Langdell, Contr., Sections 89, 28.

305/1 Langdell, Contr., Section 57.

305/2 Ibid., Sections 14, 15.

306/1 But see Langdell, Contr., Sections 14, 15.

309/1 Raffles v. Wichelhaus, 2 H. & C. 906. Cf. Kyle v. Kavanagh,
103 Mass. 356, 357.

309/2 Cf. Cocker v. Crompton, 1 B. & C. 489.

310/1 Smith v. Hughes, L.R. 6 Q.B.597.

310/2 See Gardner v. Lane, 12 Allen, 39; S.C. 9 Allen, 492, 98
Mass. 517.

311/1 Goddard v. Monitor Ins. Co., 108 Mass. 56.

313/1 See Cundy v. Lindsay, 3 App. Cas. 459, 469. Cf. Reg. v.
Middleton, L.R. 2 C.C. 38, 55 et seq., 62 et seq.; Reg. v.
Davies, Dearsly, C.C. 640; Rex v. Mucklow, 1 Moody, O.C. 160;
Reg. v. Jacobs, 12 Cox, 151.

313/2 "Praesentia corporis tollit errorem nominis." Cf. Byles,
J., in Way v. Hearne, 32 L. J. N.S.C.P. 34, 40. But cf. the
conflicting opinions in Reg. v. Middleton, L.R. 2 C.C. 38, 45,
57. It would seem that a proper name or other identification of
an object or person as specific may have the same effect as an
actual identification by the senses, because it refers to such an
identification, although in a less direct way.

316/1 Brown v. Foster, 113 Mass. 136.

316/2 Leake, Dig. Contr. 13, 14, 637; Hunt v. Livermore, 5 Pick.
395, 397; Langd. Contr. (2d ed.), Section 36.

316/3 Leake, Dig. Contr. 638; Braunstein v. Accidental Death Ins.
Co., 1 B. & S. 782.

316/4 But cf. Langd. Contr. (2d ed.), Section 29.

318/1 Langd. Contr. (2d ed.), Section 29.

318/2 Bullen & Leake, Prec. of Plead. (3d ed.), 147, "Conditions
Precedent."

319/1 Cf. Cort v. Ambergate, Nottingham & Boston & Eastern
Junction Railway Co., 17 Q.B.127.

320/1 Goodman v. Pocock, 15 Q.B.576 (1850).

325/1 Fisher v. Mellen, 103 Mass. 503.

325/2 Supra, p. 136.

327/1 Langd. Contr. (2d ed.), Section 33.

328/1 See the explanation of Dimech v. Corlett, 12 Moo. P.C. 199,
in Behn v. Burness, 3 B. & S. 751, 760.

329/1 Behn v. Burness, 3 B. & S. 751.

329/2 Langd. Contr. (2d ed.), Section 28, p. 1000.

329/3 See Lecture VIII.

330/1 Kennedy v. Panama, &c. Mail Co., L.R. 2 Q.B.580, 588; Lyon
v. Bertram, 20 How. 149, 153. Cf. Windscheid, Pand., Section 76,
nn. 6, 9.

330/2 Windscheid, Pand., Section 76(4). See, generally, Ibid.,
nn. 6,
7; Section 78, pp. 206, 207; Section 82, pp. 216 et seq.

331/1 Cr. Ihering, Geist d. Roem. Rechts, Section 48, III. p. 116
(Fr. transl.).

331/2 See, however, the language of Crompton, J. in S.C., I B. &
S. 877. Cf. Kent, Comm. (12th ed.), 479, n. 1, A (c).

331/3 Behn v. Burness, 3 B. & S. 751, 755, 756.

334/1 Cf. Anglo-Egyptian Navigation Co. v. Rennie, L.R. 10 C.P.
271.

334/2 Ellen v. Topp, 6 Exch. 424.

335/1 Contracts (2d Ed.), Section 106, and passim.

336/1 Chanter v. Hopkins, 4 M. & W. 399, 404. Possibly Behn v.
Burness, stated above, might have been dealt with in this way.
The ship tendered was not a ship which had been in the port of
Amsterdam at the date of the contract. It was therefore not such
a ship as the contract called for.

336/2 Heyworth v. Hutchinson, L.R. 2 Q.B.447, criticised in Benj.
Sales (2d ed.), pp. 742 et seq.

336/3 See Thomas v. Cadwallader, Willes, 496; Langd. Contr. (2d
ed.), Sections 116, 140. This is put as a case of equivalence by
Mr. Langdell (Contr., Section 116); but the above explanation is
believed to be the true one. It will be noticed that this is hardly
a true case of condition, but merely a limitation of the scope of
the tenant's promise. So a covenant to serve as apprentice in a
trade, which the other party covenants to teach, can only be
performed if the other will teach, and must therefore be limited
to that event. Cf. Ellen v. Topp, 6 Exch. 424.

337/1 Langdell, Contracts (2d ed.), Section 127. Cf. Roberts v.
Brett, 11 H. L. C. 337.

339/1 Graves v. Legg, 9 Exch. 709. Cf. Lang. Contr. (2d ed.), Section
33, p. 1004. Mr. Langdell says that a bought note, though part of
a bilateral contract, is to be treated as unilateral, and that it
may be presumed that the language of the contract relied on was
that of a bought note, and thus a condition in favor of the
defendant, who made it. I do not quite understand how this can be
assumed when the declaration states a bilateral contract, and the
question arose on demurrer to a plea, which also states that the
plaintiff "was by the agreement bound to declare" the names. How
remote the explanation is from the actual ground of decision will
be seen.

341/1 Recht des Besitzes, Section 11, p. 184, n. 1 (7th ed.),
Eng. tr. 124, n. t.

342/1 Inst. II. Section 157.

342/2 "In suis heredibus evidentius apparet continuationem
dominii eo rem perdueere, ut nulla videatur hereditas fuisse,
quasi olim hi domini essent, qui etiam vivo patre quodammodo
domini existimantur, unde etiam filius familias appellatur sicut
pater familias, sola nota hae adiecta, per quam distinguitur
genitor ab eo qui genitus sit. itaque post mortem patris non
hereditatem percipere videntur, sed magis liberam bonorum
administrationem consequuntur hac ex causa licet non sint heredes
instituti, domini sunt: nec obstat, quod licet eos exheredare,
quod et occidere licebat." D. 28.2. 11. Cf. Plato, Laws, [Greek
characters]

343/1 Laveleye, Propriety, 24, 202, 205, 211, n. 1, 232; Norton,
L.C. Hindu Law of Inheritance, p. 193.

343/2 D. 50. 16. 208.

343/3 D. 41. 1. 34. Cf. D. 41. 3. 40; Bract., fol. 8 a, 44 a.

343/4 D. 43. 24. 13, Section 5.

344/1 Germania, c. 20.

345/1 Littleton, Section 337; Co. Lit. 209, a, b; Y.B. 8 Ed. IV.
5, 6,
pl. 1; Keilway, 44 a (17 Hen. VII.); Lord North v. Butts, Dyer,
139 b, 140 a, top; Overton v. Sydall, Popham, 120, 121; Boyer v.
Rivet, 3 Bulstr. 317, 321; Bain v. Cooper, 1 Dowl. Pr. Cas. N. s.
11, 14.

345/2 Y.B. 48 Ed. III. 2, pl. 4.

346/1 Vermoegensrechtlichen Klagen, 88, 89.

346/2 Proc. de la Lex Salica, tr. Thevenin, p. 72 and n. 1.

347/1 Ethelred, II. 9; Cnut, II. 73; Essays in Ang. Sax. Law, pp.
221 et seq.

347/2 1 Spence, Eq. 189, note, citing Hickes, Dissert. Epist., p.
57.

347/3 Glanv., Lib. VII. c. 2 (Beames, p. 150).

347/4 Ibid., c. 8 (Beames, p. 168).

347/5 Reg. Maj., Lib. II. c. 39.

348/1 Fol. 61 a.

348/2 Sachsensp., II. 60, Section 2, cited in Essays in Ang. Sax.
Law, p. 221; Grand Cust. de Norm., c. 88.

348/3 Britt., fol. 64 b (Nich. ed. 163); Fleta, Lib. II. c. 62,
Section 10. Cf. Bract., fol. 37 b, Section 10.

348/4 Bracton, fol. 61 a, b. "Item quaero an testator legare
possit actiones suas? Et verum est quod non, de debitis quae in
vita testatoris convicta non fuerunt nec recognita, sed hujusmodi
actiones competunt haeredibus. Cum antera convicta sint et
recognita, tune sunt quasi in bonis testatoris, et competunt
executoribus in foro ecclesiastico. Si autem competant
haeredibus, ut praedictum est, in foro seculari debent terminari,
quia antequam communicantur et in foro debito, non pertinet ad
executores, ut in foro ecclesiastico convincantur."

349/1 Bracton, fol. 62a.

349/2 Y.B. 20 & 21 Ed. I. 232; cf. ib. 312.

349/3 Oates v. Frith, Hob. 130. Cf. Y.B. 5 Hen. VII. 18, pl. 12;
Popham, J., in Overton v. Sydall, Poph. 120, 121 (E. 39 El.);
Boyer v. Rivet, 3 Bulstr. 317, 319-322; Brooker's Case, Godb.
376, 380 (P. 3 Car. I.).

349/4 Bain v. Cooper, 1 Dowl. Pract. Cas. N. s. 11, 14. Cf. Y.B.
14 Hen. VIII. pl. 5, at fol. 10.

350/1 Bract., fol. 66 b, 76 b, and passim; Y.B. 20 Ed. I. 226,
200; Littleton, Section 241. The same thing was said where there
were several executors: "They are only in the place of one person."
Y.B. 8 Ed. IV. 5,pl. 1.

350/2 Comm. 385.

350/3 Cf. Glanv., Lib. VII. c. 3; F. N. B. 21 L; Dyer, 4 b, 5 a.

351/1 Cf. Bract., fol. 80 b.

351/2 Charta Divis. Reg. Franc., Art. IX. & VIII. Cf. 3
Laferriere, Hist. du Droit Francais, 408, 409.

351/3 Glanv., Lib. IX. c. 1 (Beames, pp. 218, 220); Bract., fol.
79 b.

352/1 Brooker's Case, Godbolt, 376, 377, pl. 465.

352/2 Dyer, 1 b. Cf. Bain v. Cooper, 1 Dowl. Pr. C. N. s. 11, 12.

354/1 In the American Law Review for October, 1872, VII. 49, 50,
I mentioned one or two indications of this fact. But I have since
had the satisfaction of finding it worked out with such detail
and learning in Ihering's Geist des Roemischen Rechts, Sections 10, 48,
that I cannot do better than refer to that work, only adding that
for my purposes it is not necessary to go so far as Ihering, and
that he does not seem to have been led to the conclusions which
it is my object to establish. See, further, Clark, Early Roman
Law, 109, 110; Laferriere, Hist. du Droit Frang., I. 114 et seq.;
D. 1.5. 4, Section 3; Gaii Inst. IV. Section 16; ib. II. Section
69.

356/1 Erbvertraege, I. 15 et seq.

356/2 Hist. du Droit Franc., IV. 500.

357/3 "Quantum dare voluerit aut totam furtunam eui voluerit dare
. . . nec minus nec majus nisi quantum ei creditum est." Lex Sal.
(Merkel), XLVI.

357/4 Lex Sal. (Merkel), Cap. XLVI., De adfathamire; Sohm, Frank.
Reichs- u. Gerichtsverfassung, 69.

357/6 Beseler, Erbvertraege, I. 101, 102, 105.

358/1 "Omnem facultatem suam. . . seu cuicunque libet de proximis
vel extraneis, adoptare in hereditatem vel in adfatimi vel per
scripturarum seriem seu per traditionem." L. Rib. Cap. L. (al.
XLVIII.); cf. L. Thuring. XIII. So Capp. Rib. Section 7: "Qui
filios non habuerit et aliurn quemlibet heredem facere sibi
voluerit coram rege . . . traditionem faclat."

357/2 Ed. Roth., cap. 174, 157; cf. lb. 369, 388; Liutpr. III. 16
(al. 2), VI. 155 (al. 102). Cf. Beseler, Erbvertraege, I. 108 et
seq., esp. 116-118. Compare the charter of A.D. 713, "Offero . . .
S. P. ecclesia quam mihi heredem constitui." (Mem. di Lucca V.
b. No. 4.) Troya III. No. 394, cited Heusler, Gewere, 45, 46. Cf.
ib. 484. This, no doubt, was due to Roman influence, but it
recalls what Sir Henry Maine quotes from Elphinstone's History of
India (I. 126), as to sale by a member of one of the village
communities: "The purchaser steps exactly into his place, and
takes up all his obligations." Ancient Law, ch. 8, pp. 263, 264.

357/3 (Merkel) Cap. LVIII., De chrenecruda. Sohm, Frank. R. u. G.
Verf., 117.

358/1 A.D. 679: "Sicuti tibi donata est ira tene et posteri tui."
Kemble, Cod. Dip., I. 21, No. xvi. Uhtred, A.D. 767: "Quam is
semper possideat et post se cui voluerit heredum relinquat." Ib.
I. 144, cxvxi. ("Cuilibet heredi voluerit relinquat" is very
common in the later charters; ib. V. 155, MLXXXIL; lb. VI. 1,
MCCXVIIL; it). 31, MCCXXX.; lb. 38, MCCXXXIV.; and passim. This
may be broader than cui voluerit herealum.) Offa, A.D. 779: "Ut
se viverite habe . . . deat. et post se suoe propinquitatis
homini cui ipse vo . . . possidendum libera utens potestate
relinquat." Ib. I. 164, 165, CXXXVII. Aethilbald, A.D. 736: "Ita
ut quamdiu vixerit potestatem habeat tenendi ac possidendi
cuicumque voluerit vel eo vivo vel certe post obitum suum
relinquendi." Ib. I. 96, LXXX.; cf. ib. V. 53, MXIV. Cuthred of
Kent, A.D. 805: "Cuicumque hominum voluerit in aeternam
libertatem derelinquat." Ib. I. 232, CXC. "Ut habeat libertatem
commutandi vel donandi in vita sua et post ejus obiturn teneat
facultatem relinquendi cuicumque volueris." Ib. I. 233, 234,
CXCI.; cf. ib. V. 70, MXXXI. Wiglaf of Mercia, Aug. 28, A.D. 831:
"Seu vendendum ant commutandum i cuicumque ei herede placuerit
dereliaquendum." Ib. I. 294, CCXXVII.

359/1 "W. et heredibus suis, videlicet quos heredes
constituerit." Memorials of Hexham, Surtees Soc. Pub., 1864, II.
88.

359/2 Cf. Y.B. 27 Ass., fol. 135, pl. 25. Under the Welsh laws
the champion in a cause decided by combat acquired the rights of
the next of kin, the next of kin being the proper champion. Lea,
Superstition and Force (3d Ed.), 165. Cf. ib. 161, n. 1; ib. 17.

361/1 D. 38. 8. 1, pr.

361/2 "Cum is, qui ex edicto bonorum possessionem petiit, ficto
se herede agit." Gaii Inst. IV. Section 34. Cf. Ulp. Fragm.
XXVIII. Section
12; D. 37. 1. 2. So the fidei commissarius, who was a praetorian
successor (D. 41. 4. 2, Section 19; 10. 2. 24), "in similitudinem
heredis consistit." Nov. 1. 1, Section 1. Cf. Just. Inst. 2. 24,
pr.,  and then Gaius, II. Sections 251, 252.

361/3 Gaii Inst. II. Sections 102 et seq. Cf. ib. Sections 252,
35.

361/4 Gaii Inst. IV Section 35: "Similiter et bonorum emptor
ficto se herede agit." Cf. ib. Sections 144, 145. Keller, Roemische
Civilprocess, Section 85, III. But cf. Scheurl, Lehrb. der Inst.,
Section 218, p. 407 (6th ed.).

361/5 Paulus in D. 50. 17. 128.

362/1 "In re legata in accessione temporis quo testator possedit,
legatarius quodammodo quasi heres est." D. 41. 3. 14, Section 1.

362/2 D. 41.1.62; 43. 3. 1, Section 6; Gaii Inst. II. Section 97;
Just. Inst. 2. 10, Section 11.

363/1 "[Accessiones possessionum] plane tribuuntur his qui in
locum aliorum succedunt sive ex contractu sive voluntate:
heredibus enum et his, qui successorum loco habentur, datur
accessio testatoris. Itaque si mihi vendideris servum utar
accesssione tua." D. 44.3.14, Sections 1, 2.

363/2 "Ab eo . . . in cujus locum hereditate vel emptione aliove
quo iure successi." D. 43. 19. 3, Section 2.

363/3 D. 50. 4. 1, Section 4. Cf. Cic. de Off. 3. 19. 76; Gaii
Inst. IV. Section 34.

363/4 C. 2. 3. 21; C. 6. 16. 2; cf. D. 38. 8. 1, pr.

364/1 "In locum successisse accipimus sive per universitatem sive
in rem sit successum." D. 43. 3. 1, Section 13. Cf. D. 21.3.3,
Section 1; D. 12.2.7&8;D. 39. 2. 24, Section 1.

364/2 D. 41.2. 13, Sections 1, 11. Other cases put by Ulpian may
stand on a different fiction. After the termination of a precarium,
for instance, fingitur fundus nunquam fuisse possessus ab ipso
detentore. Gothofred, note 14 (Elz. ed.). But cf. Puchta, in
Weiske, R. L., art. Besitz, p. 50, and D. 41.2.13, Section7.

364/3 Inst. 2. 6, Sections 12, 13. Cf. D. 44. 3. 9. See, for a
fuller statement, 11 Am. Law Rev. 644, 645.

365/1 Recht des Besitzes, Section11 (7th ed.), p. 184, n. 1, Eng.
tr. 124, n. t.

365/2 Paulus, D. 8. 6. 18, Section 1. This seems to be written of
a rural servitude (aqua) which was lost by mere disuse, without
adverse user by the servient owner.

365/3 Hermogenianus, D. 21. 3. 3; Exe. rei jud., D. 44. 2. 9,
Section 2; ib. 28; ib. 11, Sections 3, 9; D. 10. 2. 25, Section 8;
D. 46. 8. 16, Section I; Keller, Roem. Civilproc., Section 73.
Cf. Bracton, fol. 24 b, Section 1 ad fin.

365/4 "Recte a me via uti prohibetur et interdictum ei inutile
est, quia a me videtur vi vel clam vel precario possidere, qui ab
auctore meo vitiose possidet. nam et Pedius scribit, si vi aut
clam aut precario ab co sit usus, in cuius locum hereditate vel
emptione aliove quo lure suceessi, idem esse dicendum: cum enim
successerit quis in locum eorum, aequum non est nos noceri hoc,
quod adversus eum non nocuit, in cuius locum successimus." D. 43.
19. 3, Section 2. The variation actore, argued for by Savigny, is
condemned by Mommsen, in his edition of the Digest, --it seems
rightly.

365/5 D. 12. 2. 7 & 8.

366/1 Ulpian, D. 39. 2. 24, Section1. Cf. D. 8. 5.7; D. 39. 2.
17, Section 3,
n. 79 (Elzevir ed.); Paulus, D. 2. 14. 17, Section 5.

366/2 "Cum quis in alii locum successerit non est aequum ei
nocere hoc, quod adversus eum non nocuit, in cujus locum
successit. Plerumque emptoris eadem causa esse debet circa
petendum ac defendendum, quae fuit auctoris." Ulp. D. 50. 17.
156, Sections 2, 3. "Qui in ius dominiumve alterius succedit,
iure ejus uti debet." Paulus, D. 50. 17. 177. "Non debeo melioris
condieionis esse, quam auctor meus, a quo ius in me transit."
Paulus, D. 50. 17. 175, Section 1. "Quod ipsis qui contraxerunt
obstat, et successoribus eoturn obstabit." Ulp. D. 50. 17. 143.
"Nemo plus iuris ad alium transferre potest, quam ipse haberet."
Ulp. D. 50. 17. 54; Bract., fol. 31 b. Cf. Decret. Greg. Lib. II.
Tit. XIII. c. 18, De rest. spoliat.: "Cum spoliatori quasi succedat
in vitium." Bruns, R. d. Besitzes, p. 179. Windscheid, Pand.,
Section 162 a, n. 10.

366/3 "Ne vitiosae quidam possessioni ulla potest accedere: sed
nec vitiosa ei, quse vitiosa non est." D. 41. 2. 13, Section 13.

367/1 Hill v. Ellard, 3 Salk. 279. Cf. Withers v. Iseham, Dyer,
70 a, 70 b, 71 a; Gateward's Case, 6 Co. Rep. 59b, 60b; Y.B. 20 &
21 Ed. I 426; 205; 12 Hen. IV. 7.

368/1 Doe v. Barnard, 13 Q.B.945, 952, 953, per Cur., Patteson,
J. Cf. Asher v. Whitlock, L.R. 1 Q.B.1, 3, 6, 7.

368/2 See, further, Sawyer v. Kendall, 10 Cush. 241; 2 Bl. Comm.
263 et seq.; 3 Ch. Pl. 1119 (6th Am. ed.); 3 Kent, 444, 445;
Angell, Limitations, ch. 31, Section 413. Of course if a right
had already been acquired before the disseisin different
considerations would apply. If the right claimed is one of those
which are regarded as incident to land, as explained in the
following Lecture, the disseisor will have it. Jenk. Cent. 12,
First Cent. Case 21.

370/1 Ared v. Watkin, Cro. Eliz. 637; S.C., ib. 651. Cf. Y.B. 5
Hen. VII. 18, pl. 12; Dyer, 4 b, n. (4).

370/2 Roe v. Hayley, 12 East, 464, 470 (1810).

371/1 Boyer v. Rivet, 3 Bulstr. 317, 321.

372/1 Essays in A. S. Law, 219.

372/2 "Per medium," Bracton, fol. 37b, Section10 ad fin.

374/1 Bract., fol. 17 b. Cf. Fleta, III. c. 14, Section 6.

374/2 See, further, Middlemore v. Goodale, Cro. Car. 503, stated
infra, p. 379.

374/3 See also Bract., fol. 380 b, 381. "Et quod de haeredibus
dicitur, idem dici poterit de assignatis .... Et quod assignatis
fieri debet warrantia per modum donationis: probatur in itinere
W. de Ralegh in Com. Warr. circa finem rotuli, et hoc maxime, si
primus dominus capitalis, et primus feoffator, ceperit homagium
et servitium assignati." Cf. Fleta, VI. Section 6; Moore, 93, pl.
230; Sheph. Touchst. 199, 200. As to the reason which led to the
mention of assigns, cf. Bract., fol. 20 b, Section 1; 1 Britt.
(Nich.), 223, 312.

375/1 I do not stop to inquire whether this was due to the
statute of Quia Emptores, by which the assign was made to hold
directly of the first grantor, or whether some other explanation
must be found. Cf. Bract., fol. 37 b; c. 14, Sections 6, 11; VI.
c. 28, Section 4; 1 Britton (Nich.), 256, [100 b].

375/2 Fleta, III. c. 14, Section 6, fol. 197; 1 Britton (Nich.),
223, 233, 244, 255, 312; Co. Lit. 384 b; Y.B. 20 Ed. I. 232; Abbr.
Placit., fol. 308, 2d col., Dunelm, rot. 43; Y.B. 14 Hen. IV. 5, 6.

377/1 Fol. 67 a; cf. 54 a.

377/2 Fol. 381; supra, p. 874, n. 3.

378/1 Cf. Pincombe v. Rudge, Hobart, 3; Bro. Warrantia Carte, pl.
8; S.C., Y.B. 2 Hen. IV. 14, pl. 5.

378/2 Y.B. 50 Ed. III. 12b & 13.

378/3 Y.B. 42 Ed. III. 3, pl. 14, per Belknap, arguendo.

378/4 Noke v. Awder, Cro. Eliz. 373; S.C., ib. 436. Cf. Lewis v.
Campbell, 8 Taunt. 715; S.C., 3 J. B. Moore, 35.

379/1 Middlemore v. Goodale, Cro. Car. 503; S.C., ib. 505, Sir
William Jones, 406.

379/2 Harper v. Bird, T. Jones, 102 (Pasch. 30 Car. II.). These
cases show an order of development parallel to the history of the
assignment of other contracts not negotiable.

380/1 Andrew v. Pearce, 4 Bos. & Pul. 158 (1805).

383/1 Austin, Jurisprudence, II. p. 842 (3d ed.).

383/2 "Quoniam non personae, sed praedia deberent, neque adquiri
libertas neque remitti servitus per partem poterit." D. 8. 3. 34,
pr.

383/3 "Qui fundum alienum bona fide emit, itinere quod ei fundo
debetur usus est: retinetur id ius itineris: atque etiam, si
precario aut vi deiecto domino possidet: fundus enim qualiter se
habens ita, cum in suo habitu possessus est, ius non deperit,
neque refert, iuste nec ne possideat qui talem eum possidet." D.
8. 6. 12.

383/4 Elzevir ed., n. 51, ad loc. cit.; Cicero de L. Agr. 3. 2. 9.

383/5 D. 50. 16, 86. Cf. Ulpian, D. 41. 1. 20, Section 1; D. 8.
3. 23, Section 2.

383/6 Inst. 2. 3, Section 1.

384/1 D. 8. 1. 14, pr. Cf. Elzevir ed., n. 58, "Et sic jura . . .
accessiones ease possunt corporum."

384/2 "Cum fundus fundo servit." D. 8. 4. 12. Cf. D. 8. 5. 20,
Section 1; D. 41. 1. 2O, Section 1.

384/3 Jurisprudence, II. p. 847 (3d ed.).

384/4 Cf. Windscheid, Pand., Section 57, n. 10 (4th ed.), p. 150.

385/1 Fol. 10b, Section 3.

385/2 Fol. 220b, Section 1.

386/1 Fol. 221.

386/2 Fol. 219a, b.

386/3 Fol. 102a, b.

386/4 Fol. 226 b, Section 13. All these passages assume that a
right has been acquired and inheres in the land.

387/1 Fol. 53 a; cf. 59 b, ad fin., 242 b.

387/2 "Nihil praescribitur nisi quod possidetur," cited from Hale
de Jur. Maris, p. 32, in Blundell v. Catterall, 5 B. & Ald. 268,
277.

388/1 Bract., fol. 46b; cf. 17b, 18, 47 b, 48.

388/2 Fol. 81, 81 b, 79 b, 80 b.

388/3 Fol. 24 b, 26, 35 b, 86, 208 b, &c. Cf. F. N. B. 123, E;
Laveleye, Propriete, 67, 68, 116.

388/4 Abbr. Plac. 110; rot. 22, Devon. (Hen. III.}.

388/5 Stockwell v. Hunter, 11 Met. (Mass.) 448.

389/1 Keilway, 130 b, pl. 104.

389/2 Keilway, 113 a, pl. 45; Dyer, 2b.

389/3 Keilway, 113a, pl. 45. Cf. Y.B. 33-35 Ed. I. 70; 45 Ed.
III. 11, 12.

389/4 Litt. Section 589.

389/5 Keilway, 2 a, pl. 2 ad fin. (12 Hen. VII.). But cf. Y.B. 6
Hen. VII. 14, pl. 2 ad fin.

389/6 4 Laferriere, Hist. du Droit. Franc. 442; Bracton, fol. 53a.

390/1 Cf. Co. Lit. 322 b, et seq.; Y.B. 6 Hen. VII. 14, pl. 2 ad
fin.

390/2 Daintry v. Brocklehurst, 3 Exch. 207.

390/3 Y.B. 5 Hen. VII. 18, pl. 12.

391/1 Y.B. 9 Hen. VI. 16, pl. 7.

391/2 Y.B. 14 Hen. VI. 26, pl. 77.

391/3 Y.B. 5 Hen. VII. 18, pl. 12.

391/4 Cf. Theloall, Dig. I. c. 21, pl. 9.

391/5 Buskin v. Edmunds, Cro. Eliz. 636.

391/6 Harper v. Bird, T. Jones, 102 (30 Car. II.).

391/7 Bolles v. Nyseham, Dyer, 254 b; Porter v. Swetnam, Style,
406; S.C., ib. 431.

391/8 3 Bl. Comm. 231, 232.

392/1 Yielding v. Fay, Cro. Eliz. 569.

392/2 Pakenham's Case, Y.B. 42 Ed. III. 3, pl. 14; Prior of
Woburn's Case, 22 Hen. VI. 46, pl. 36; Williams's Case, 5 Co.
Rep. 72 b, 73 a; Slipper v. Mason, Nelson's Lutwyche, 43, 45
(top).

392/3 F. N. B. 127; Nowel v. Smith, Cro. Eliz. 709; Star v.
Rookesby, 1 Salk. 335, 336; Lawrence v. Jenkins, L.R. 8 Q.B.274.

392/4 Dyer, 24 a, pl. 149; F. N. B. 180 N.

393/1 F. N. B. 128 D, E; Co. Lit. 96 b. It is assumed that, when
an obligation is spoken of as falling upon the land, it is
understood to be only a figure of speech. Of course rights and
obligations are confined to human beings.

393/2 Keilway, 145 b, 146, pl. 15; Sir Henry Nevil's Case, Plowd.
377, 381; Chudleigh's Case, 1 Co. Rep. 119 b, 122 b.

393/3 F. N. B. 180 N.; Co. Lit. 385 a; Spencer's Case, 5 Co. Rep.
16 a, 17 b; Pakenham's Case, Y.B. 42 Ed. III. 3, pl. 14; Keilway,
145 b, 146, pl. 15; Comyns's Digest, Covenant (B, 3).

394/1 Holms v. Seller, 3 Lev. 305; Rowbotham v. Wilson, 8 H. L.
C. 348; Bronson v. Coffin, 108 Mass. 175, 180. Cf. Bro. Covenant,
pl. 2.

394/2 Y.B. 21 Ed. III. 2, pl. 5; F. N. B. 180 N.

394/3 The action is case in the Prior of Woburn's Case, Y.B. 22
Hen. VI. 46, pl. 36. In F. N. B. 128 E, n. (a), it is said that a
curia claudenda only lay upon a prescriptive right, and that if
the duty to fence was by indenture the plaintiff was put to his
writ of covenant. But see below, pp. 396, 400.

394/4 Y.B. 32 & 33 Ed. I. 430.

395/1 Y.B. 20 Ed. I. 360.

395/2 Y.B. 32 & 33 Ed. I. 516.

395/3 "Quia res cum homine [obviously a misprint for onere]
transit ad  quemcunque." Fol. 382, 382 b.

395/4 Lib. VI. c. 23, Section 17.

395/5 Pakenham's Case, Y.B. 42 Ed. III. 3, pl. 14.

395/6 Sugd. V. & P. (14th ed.), 587; Rawle, Covenants for Title
(4th ed.), p. 314. Cf. Vyvyan v. Arthur, 1 B. & C. 410; Sharp v.
Waterhouse, 7 El. & Bl. 816, 823.

396/1 Co. Lit. 385 a.

396/2 Cf. Finchden as to rent in Y. B, 45 Ed. III. 11, 12.

396/3 Cf. Y.B. 50 Ed. III. 12, 13, pl. 2.

397/1 Covenant, pl. 17.

397/2 There is a colon here in both editions of the Year Books,
marking the beginning of a new argument.

397/3 Pakenham's Case, Y.B. 42 Ed. III. 3, pl. 14.

398/1 Bro. Covenant, pl. 5. Cf. Spencer's Case, 5 Co. Rep. 16 a,
17 b, 18 a.

398/2 Horne's Case, Y.B. 2 Hen. IV. 6, pl. 25.

399/1 "Quod conceditur." Cf. Spencer's Case, 5 Co. Rep. 16 a, 18
a.

399/2 It was quite possible that two liabilities should exist
side by side. Bro. Covenant, pl. 32; Brett v. Cumberland, Cro.
Jac. 521, 523.

399/3 1 Co. Rep. 122 b; S.C., sub nom. Dillon v. Fraine, Popham,
70, 71.

400/1 Essays in Ang. Sax. Law, 248.

400/2 Y.B. 22 Ed. I. 494, 496.

400/3 Y.B. 4 Ed. III. 57, pl. 71; S.C., 7 Ed. III. 65, pl. 67.

401/1 Bract., fol. 17 b, 37 b; Fleta, III. c. 14, Section 6;
1 Britton (Nich.), 223, 233, 244, 255, 312; Abbrev. Plac.
p. 308, col 2, Dunelm, rot. 43 (33 I.); Y. B, 20 Ed. I. 232;
Co. Lit. 384 b.

401/2 Hyde v. Dean of Windsor, Cro. Eliz. 552.

401/3 Spencer's Case, 5 Co. Rep. 16 a. Cf. Minshill v. Oakes, 2
H. & N. 793, 807.

402/1 Hyde v. Dean of Windsor, Cro. Eliz. 552, 553; S.C., ib.
457. Cf. Bally v. Wells, 3 Wilson, 25, 29.

402/2 Dean of Windsor's Case, 5 Co. Rep. 24 a; S.C., Moore, 399.
Cf. Bro. Covenant, pl. 32. Cf. further, Conan v. Kemise, W.
Jones, 245 (7 Car. I.).

403/1 F. N. B. 181 N; Sir Henry Nevil's Case, Plowden, 377, 381.

403/2 Ewre v. Strickland, Cro. Jac. 240. Cf. Brett v. Cumberland,
1 Roll R. 359, 360 "al comen ley"; S.C., Cro. Jac. 399, 521.

403/3 Cockson v. Cock, Cro. Jac. 125.

403/4 Sale v. Kitchingham, 10 Hod. 158 (E. 12 Anne).

403/5 Supra, pp. 396, 398, 400. Cf., however, Lord Wensleydale,
in Rowbotham v. Wilson, 8 H. L. C. 348, 362, and see above, p.
391, as to rents.

404/1 4 Kent (12th ed.), 480, n. 1.

404/2 It is used in a somewhat different sense is describing the
relation between a tenant for life or years and a reversioner.
Privity between them follows as an accidental consequence of
their being as one tenant, and sustaining a single persona
between them.

406/1 Rowbotham v. Wilson, 8 H. L. C. 348, 362 (Lord
Wensleydale).

406/2 Harbidge v. Warwick, 3 Exch. 552, 556.

406/3 Rowbotham v. Wilson, 8 El. & Bl. 123, 143, 144.

404/4 5 Co. Rep. 16, a.

407/1 Y.B. 8 Ed. IV. 5, 6, pl. 1; 22 Ed. IV. 6, pl. 18. Cf. 5 Ed.
IV. 7, pl. 16.

407/2 Cf. Keilway, 42 b, 46 b; 2 Bl. Comm. 329.

408/1 Y.B. 14 Hen. VIII. 6, pl. 5. Cf. Chudleigh's Case, 1 Co.
Rep. 120a, 122 b; S.C., nom. Dillon v. Fraine, Popham, 70-72.

408/2 Lewin, Trusts, Ch. I. (7th ed.), pp. 16, 15.

408/3 4 Inst. 85; Gilb. Uses (Sugd.), 429, n. (6); Lewin, Trusts
(7th ed.), pp. 15, 228.

408/4 Burgess v. Wheate, 1 Eden, 177, 203, 246.

408/5 Lewin, Trusts, Introd. (7th ed.), p. 3.

408/6 1 Rich. III. c. 1. Cf. Rex v. Holland, Aleyn, 14, Maynard's
arg.; Bro. Feoffements al Uses, pl. 44; Gilb. Uses, 26* (Sugd.
ed., 50).

409/1 4th Inst. 85; S.C., Dyer, 869, pl. 50; Jenk. Cent. 6, c.
30. Cf. Gilb. Uses, 198* (Sugd. ed. 399).

409/2 Gilb. Uses, 35* (Sugd. ed. 70).

409/3 Theloall's Dig., I. 16, pl. 1.







End of Project Gutenberg's The Common Law, by Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr.