Lastly, there is the so-called Comparative Method, which is the youngest

of the four. It is concerned with space as the Historical method is with

time. It collects, examines, collates, the notions, doctrines, rules,

and institutions which are found in every developed legal system, or at

least in most systems, notes the points in which they agree or differ,

and seeks thereby to construct a system which shall be Natural because

it embodies what men otherwise unlike have agreed in feeling to be

essential, Philosophical because it gets below words and names and

discovers identity of substance under diversity of description, and

Serviceable, because it shows by what particular means the ends which

all (or most) systems pursue have been best attained. The process is

something like that which a Roman Praetor might have followed in

constructing the general or theoretical part of his _ius gentium_[88].

If indeed we are to suppose the Praetor ever really did study the laws

of the various neighbours of Rome, he was one of the founders of this

method, though to be sure the Roman commissioners, who are said to have

been sent out to examine the laws of other countries before the

Decemviral legislation, preceded him in this attempt.

-----

Footnote 88:

See Essay XI, p. 130 sqq.

-----

The comparative science of jurisprudence appears, however, in two forms.

One of these must, like the science of comparative grammar, crave the

aid of history, for the study of the differences between two systems

becomes much more profitable when it is seen how the differences arose,

and this can be explained only by social and political history. This

form may be deemed an extension of the historical method, which it

resembles in helping us to disengage what is local or accidental or

transient in legal doctrine from what is general, essential, and

permanent, and in thereby affording some security against a narrow or

superficial view. It is really an historical study of law in general;

and, like history, it is not directed to practical ends.

The other form, though it cannot dispense with the aid of history,

because the differences between the laws of different countries are not

explicable without a knowledge of their sources in the past, has a

narrower range in time, being directed to contemporary phenomena. It has

moreover a palpably practical aim. It sets out by ascertaining and

examining the rules actually in force in modern civilized countries, and

proceeds to show by what means these rules deal with problems

substantially the same in those countries. For example, it takes such a

topic as the liability of an employer for the acts of his servant, or

the structure and management of incorporated companies, compares the

enactments it finds in France, in Germany, in the British Colonies and

in the States of the American Union, points out their differences, and

seeks to determine which mode of handling the difficulties of the

subject is the simplest and most likely to work well in practice. The

next step would be to test each legislative experiment by the results it

has secured in each country. Here, however, the task becomes more

difficult, and requires qualities in the investigator which are not

altogether those needed by the jurist.

What the Comparative method does for legal training and legal theory it

does in its first mentioned and historical form. Ample as the materials

may appear, they are really somewhat scanty, because there have been in

the world not many distinct types of legal system or doctrine, and few

of these have reached a high development. Of the ancient and long since

departed systems little is left, and that little not very helpful for

this particular purpose. There are some fragments of old Celtic law from

Ireland, with larger fragments of old Teutonic law chiefly from Iceland,

Norway, Friesland, and the Carolingian Empire, some old Slavonic land

and family customs, besides what may be gleaned from the ancient books

of India, and what has recently been discovered in Egypt, in the clay

tablets of Babylon, and in inscriptions among the ruins of Greek cities.

Of the modern systems, on the other hand, there are besides those of

Teutonic origin, practically only three worth mentioning: Hindu law,

which has been fully developed only in two or three directions;

Muhamadan law, which is deficient on some of the sides we should deem

the most important; and the Roman law, which now covers all those parts

of the civilized world that are not covered by English law, including

the continent of Europe and the colonies of European nations (some

British colonies as well as French, Dutch, German, and Portuguese)

except those which lie in the temperate parts of North America and in

Australasia. So far, therefore, as the doctrines of law in its civilized

and developed forms, suited to a progressive modern nation, are

concerned, the comparative method is virtually restricted to a

comparison of English and Roman conceptions and rules. And the

fundamental ideas and principles of English law itself have been in some

departments so much affected by Roman law that they can hardly be

treated as independent material for comparative study.

It is when we leave the field of legal philosophy and jurisprudence in

general for the field of particulars and details that the practical

value of the Comparative method begins. An examination of the various

ways in which economic and social problems have been dealt with in

recent times, and in which commerce has been regulated and crime

checked, is in the highest degree interesting and useful. But that is

not quite the kind of legal study which we are here primarily engaged in

considering. No doubt the way in which questions of liability and

responsibility and negligence, to take a familiar example, are dealt

with in the laws of different countries, does throw light upon general

juristic conceptions and upon the lines which Courts ought to follow in

developing these difficult branches of any concrete system. But on the

whole, it is rather to the province of legislation than to that of law

that this part of comparative jurisprudence belongs; and, as has been

already observed, the utility for practical guidance of the results

which an examination of the legislation of various civilized states

supplies is somewhat reduced by the difficulty of determining how much

of those results, be they good or evil, is in each case attributable to

legal enactments, how much to the social and economic environment in

which the enactments work.

If we are to attempt to estimate the respective worth of these four

methods for the creation of a theory or philosophy or science of law, we

must begin by settling for whom such a science is designed and to whom

it will be useful.

Three kinds of persons will primarily and directly profit by having such

a science built up on the best lines, viz. the teachers and students of

law, the practitioners of law, including both advocates and judges, and

the makers of law, _i.e._ legislators and draftsmen. Legislators,

however, whether monarchs or members of legislative assemblies, have in

modern countries seldom sought to acquire any specifically legal

knowledge, though some persons who sit in the legislatures of modern

countries usually happen to possess it. Thus it is rather of the two

other classes we must think, that is to say, of the value of a

scientific theory for facilitating the acquisition of legal knowledge by

the learner, and of its value in helping the practitioner (whether

advocate or judge) to apply it with accuracy, perspicacity, ingenuity,

and promptitude. In proposing this test I do not mean to ignore the

importance which belongs to the philosophy of every great branch of

learning, as an end in itself, apart from all practical benefits to be

derived from it. That importance is, however, as the Romans say of

freedom, _res inaestimabilis_, a thing too precious to receive a

valuation in any recognized currency. Practical utility, on the other

hand, can be tested and valued, so it is to the practical utility of

this science in making men thorough masters of law that we had better

confine our view.

All the four methods are legitimate and capable of being applied in a

truly scientific spirit. None therefore is to be either neglected or

disparaged. If, however, we judge them by their fruits, we shall find

that the Historical has given the best crop. The Metaphysical tends to

be not merely abstract but vague and viewy. Of the treatises in which it

has been employed the best are indeed not to be deemed empty. Scattered

through not a few of them one finds acute and suggestive remarks. They

subserve a sound analysis by their treatment of ethical problems: and

sometimes they present what are really considerations of practical

expediency disguised in the robes of sacerdotal transcendentalism. The

difficulty which forbids many among us to give more study to these books

is the shortness of life. Much talent, sometimes of a high order, has

gone to the making of them. But they are, and not solely the German

ones, terribly hard reading.

The Analytic method keeps much nearer to the realities of law, and is

serviceable for the clarifying of our ideas. Its English votaries have,

however, generally wanted breadth of view, and have tried to force

definitions on facts, instead of letting the facts prescribe the

definition. They have been unequal to the subtlety of nature (for law

also is a product of nature), and this largely because they have

neglected the materials for induction which history supplies.

The Comparative method (as already observed) suffers from a lack of

material for the purposes of a philosophy of law in general, and becomes

in practice an examination of Roman conceptions with the help of light

from England in those departments of English law which have been least

influenced by Rome[89], and of some glimmers from the East and from the

laws of ancient European peoples.

-----

Footnote 89:

An example of how stimulating this may be made is furnished by the

treatment of Possession in the acute and learned lectures on the

Common Law of Mr. O. W. Holmes (now Chief Justice of Massachusetts).

-----

The Historical method, on the other hand, may at least be relied upon to

give us facts. Facts are always helpful, when men have been trained to

use them. It is the business of historical criticism to impart this

training, just as it is the business of logic to teach men how to

analyse a current conception and to distinguish the various senses in

which a term may be used.

If the question is propounded—How should these four methods, or some or

one of them, be used for the purpose of legal instruction and the

formation of a legal mind and power of handling legal problems, may we

not answer it in some such way as the following?

The philosophy or theory of Law should begin by determining the place of

law among the human or moral as opposed to the physical sciences, and

should examine its relations to Psychology, Ethics, Politics, and

Economics. As this inquiry will start from a general survey of the

nature of man and the general ideas he forms, it will fall within the

scope of what we have called the Metaphysical method.

The notions and conceptions which are essential to law and lie at the

bottom of all systems will then be investigated, and particularly the

following fundamental conceptions—Right, Obligation, Duty, Liability,

Law, Custom. Some will prefer to deduce these conceptions by the

metaphysical method from the phenomena of human nature and the

principles that connect these phenomena. Some will prefer to start from

current notions as embodied in current language, and to reach correct

definitions by analysing the meaning conveyed by each term and setting

out the facts it is intended to cover. Whichever method be adopted—and

there is less real difference between the two than the description here

given of them might seem to convey—the Historical method ought to

accompany and aid the application of either. For although the object of

the inquiry is to obtain a statement which shall be adequate and exact

for the science of law as a fully developed product of civilized

societies, we always need to be warned by History against assuming that

our present notions are sufficiently wide, and sufficiently possessed of

the elements of necessity and permanence to secure that our propositions

shall be generally true and enable our definitions to hit what is really

essential. The once popular definition of law as a Command of the State

is an instance of the danger of forgetting the past, for the fact that

it would have been palpably untrue in certain stages of political

development shows that it does not rest upon a sufficiently broad

foundation.

From these general conceptions the inquiry will advance to a second

order of ideas and categories, more specifically and purely legal, such

as Ownership, Possession, Contract, Tort, Marriage, Guardianship,

Slavery, Conveyance, Pledge, Lien, Prescription, Inheritance, Sale,

Partnership, Bailment, Crime, Fraud, Negligence. Here we come still

closer to the rules of concrete systems. A German metaphysician may no

doubt deduce the abstract idea of Ownership or Contract from the general

principles he has previously laid down in his speculative treatment of

the subject. A Socratic analyst may by testing current terms and

phrases, and unfolding the meanings involved in these terms, arrive at

definitions of them. But the examination of the conceptions and the

definition of the terms must be mainly based on a study of the facts

which in one or more actual legal systems these conceptions cover. In

this study the Historical method can render effective help, because the

rules actually regulating in any given system all the relations denoted

by these terms are sure to have something irregular or apparently

arbitrary about them, something which pure reason would not have

suggested. The forms, for instance, which Possession, Inheritance, and

Pledge have taken both in Roman and in English law have many

peculiarities explicable only by tracing the causes that produced them.

The definition which the jurist will propound for the purposes of his

science of law in general will avoid such peculiarities, but he cannot

afford to be ignorant of them or of their origin, else he may miss some

side of their significance.

Although in theoretical Jurisprudence the part of History is on the

whole secondary, it is nevertheless indispensable. For History shows us

cases where things that are really different go by the same name, and

other cases where things that are really the same go by different names,

cases where a rule has been extended beyond, and others where it has not

been extended to, its proper or natural range, and thus it guides the

jurist, explaining the facts on which he has to found his theory. The

Comparative method renders a similar service in preventing him from

laying too much stress on the special shape in which a doctrine or

institution appears in the particular system whose history he is

studying, and generally in pointing out identity of substance or effect

coupled with diversity of form or expression.

All the above-named categories or conceptions or institutions, together

with some few others of minor importance, belong to the science of law

in general, because they appear in every fully developed system. When,

however, we get more into particulars, it becomes increasingly difficult

to lay down general doctrines or suggest general rules applicable to all

communities, because details must be settled with reference to the needs

and usages of a given community, and that which suits one would hardly

suit another. Here therefore the Philosophy or Science of Jurisprudence

will bid farewell to the student, handing him over to those who teach

the law of England or Scotland or France or Russia, as the case may be,

and bidding him remember to apply the general principles he has mastered

to the criticism of the details which he will thenceforth be occupied in

learning.

The principles which constitute the Science or Theory of Law in general

can be adequately stated within moderate compass. The subject is not a

large one, unless a writer spreads himself out in ethics on the one hand

or accumulates historical details on the other. Nor is it in the

knowledge to be given that the value of the study will chiefly lie; it

is rather in the training to use the right methods in the right way.

Before he is plunged into details, the student ought to acquire the

habit of looking for principles, of analysing terms, of perceiving that

legal doctrines have all had their growth from rude beginnings and will

change further. These aptitudes will serve him when he enters the domain

of technical law, which is a domain less of Reason than of Authority.

And authority, though it may be called the reason of the past, rules not

because it is reason but because it has the sanction of a past

pronouncement.

Arguments founded on the reason of things or on the tendency of

historical development will avail nothing in practice against a positive

rule, whether contained in a statute or deducible from a decided case.

Seldom indeed will a judicious advocate invoke either Reason or History,

unless perhaps in arguing before the House of Lords a point whereon

little authority exists. But in reasoning from decided cases, and even

in interpreting statutes, his mastery of the methods already described

will stand him in good stead. Nor is it to be forgotten that the judge

and the writer of text-books have, each of them, important functions in

guiding the development of the law. When a question is to be dealt with

regarding which authority is scanty or the decisions are conflicting, a

jurist belonging to either of these classes may apply the philosophic

habit of mind formed by his theoretic studies to the task of finding a

solution which shall be sound and durable, because conformable to

principle, and standing in the true line of historical development.

Let us return, now that we have sketched a scheme for a Theory or

Science of Law in general, to the question whence we started, whether

the Romans, who never produced any such theory or science, suffered from

the want of it. If they did suffer, why do we praise their treatment of

law, and why in particular do we call it a philosophical treatment? If

they did not suffer, what becomes of the importance of a Science or

Theory to the modern lawyer? Why should he trouble himself about it at

all?

What is it which we admire in the Roman jurists, and in the Roman law

generally?

The characteristic merits of the Roman law—and I speak of course only of

the Private Law, for Public or Constitutional Law must be considered

apart—are its Reasonableness and its Consistency. It is pervaded by a

spirit of good sense. Except in two departments, those of the Paternal

Power and of Slavery, its rules almost always conform to considerations

of justice and expediency. Very little needs to be excused as the result

of historical causes. Even Slavery and the _Patria Potestas_, the former

universal in the ancient world, the latter so deep-rooted among the

Romans that it could never be altogether expunged, are in the later

centuries so steadily and carefully mitigated that most of their old

harshness disappears. The moral tone of the law is, take it all in all,

as high as that of any modern system; and in some few points higher than

our own. By its Consistency I mean the harmony and symmetry of its

parts, the maintenance through a multiplicity of details of the leading

principles, the flexibility with which these principles are adapted to

the varying needs of time, place, and circumstance. So the excellence of

the jurists resides in their clear practical sense, in the air of

enlightenment and of what may be called intellectual urbanity which

pervades them. Most of them express themselves with a concise neatness

and finish which gives us the pith of their view in the fewest and

simplest words. They dislike what is arbitrary or artificial, taking for

their aim what they call elegance (_elegantia iuris_), the plastic skill

(so to speak) in developing a principle which gives to law the character

of Art, preserving harmony, avoiding exceptions and irregularities. Yet

they never sacrifice practical convenience to their theories, nor does

their deference to authority prevent them from constantly striving to

correct the defects of the law as it came down from their predecessors.

In these respects the Roman law and the Roman lawyers of the classical

age (the first two and a half centuries of the Empire) may be deemed

more philosophical than our own law or its luminaries. Our law, equal to

the Roman in its sense of justice and in its subtlety, and in some

respects distinctly superior to the Roman, is also a far larger and more

complex structure, as it has to regulate a far more complex society. But

it has less symmetry and consistency, more intricacy and artificiality,

than the Roman: and few of our legal writers can be placed on a level

with the greatest of the classical jurists. Compare Lord Coke for

instance, or Lord St. Leonards, with Papinian or Gaius. Lord St.

Leonards was a man greatly admired by the profession, and his books

secured an authority unsurpassed, if indeed equalled, by any other legal

writings of the century[90]. His knowledge was immense, and it was

minute. His treatises show the same acuteness and ingenuity in arguing

from cases which his forensic career displayed. But these treatises are

a mere accumulation of details, unillumined and unrelieved by any

statement of general principles. In literary style, and no less in the

cast and quality of his intellect, he is harsh and crabbed, but his

frequent obscurity must be due less to a want of clear thinking than to

the fact that our legal text-books have so rarely aimed at excellence of

literary form that this famous case-lawyer had no ideal of lucidity or

finish before him. Lord St. Leonards is not an exceptional instance.

That sound and very learned legal author whom the early Victorian era so

much valued, Mr. John William Smith (Smith’s _Leading Cases_ and

_Contracts_ ), illustrates the same tendencies.

-----

Footnote 90:

Lord Mansfield in the eighteenth century or Lord Cairns in the

nineteenth, perhaps the two most philosophical minds that have adorned

the English bench, would doubtless, if they had written on law, have

shone as legal writers far more than Lord St. Leonards; and it is of

course true that in order to have a fair comparison our great judges

ought to be thrown into the English scale. But the form in which their

wisdom appears makes it less available than the form in which we have

that of the Romans. So too Lord Justice Mellish, the most solid and

cogent reasoner of his time, and Lord Bowen, the most subtle and

ingenious, would doubtless have produced admirable work had not their

time been absorbed by their forensic and judicial duties.

-----

Now the merits we have noted in the Roman law and the Roman jurists are

largely merits of method. To set forth the causes to which the

excellence of the Roman law is ascribable would involve a long

digression, and I have dealt with those causes elsewhere. So let us

confine ourselves to the jurists. They reason and they write as men who

have been thoroughly trained, who have been imbued with a large and

liberal view of law, who have philosophy and analysis and the sense of

historical development equally at their command. They are endowed in

fact with the qualities which, as we have been led to think, a course of

the Theory or Science of Law ought to impart. How then did they acquire

these qualities?

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