CHAPTER III

AMERICAN COURTS AS LEGISLATIVE CHAMBERS

In one point of view many of the greatest of the Federalists were

idealists. They seem sincerely to have believed that they could, by some

form of written words, constrain a people to be honest against their

will, and almost as soon as the new government went into operation they

tested these beliefs by experiment, with very indifferent success. I

take it that jurists like Jay and Marshall held it to be axiomatic that

rules of conduct should be laid down by them which would be applicable

to rich and poor, great and small, alike, and that courts could maintain

such rules against all pressure. Possibly such principles may be

enforced against individuals, but they cannot be enforced against

communities, and it was here that the Federalist philosophy collapsed,

as Hamilton, at least partly, foresaw that it must.

Sovereigns have always enjoyed immunity from suit by private persons,

unless they have been pleased to assent thereto, not because it is less

wrongful for a sovereign than for an individual to cheat, but because

the sovereign cannot be arrested and the individual can. With the

Declaration of Independence the thirteen colonies became sovereigns.

Petty sovereigns it is true, and singly contemptible in physical force

as against most foreign nations, but none the less tenacious of the

attributes of sovereignty, and especially of the attribute which enabled

them to repudiate their debts. Jay, Marshall, and their like, thought

that they could impose the same moral standard upon the states as upon

private persons; they were unable to do so, but in making the attempt

they involved the American judicial system in a maze of difficulties

whose gravity, I fear, can hardly be exaggerated. Before entering upon

this history, however, I must say a word touching the nature of our law.

Municipal law, to be satisfactory, should be a body of abstract

principles capable of being applied impartially to all relevant facts,

just as Marshall and Jay held it to be. Where exceptions begin, equality

before the law ends, as I have tried to show by the story of King David

and Uriah, and therefore the great effort of civilization has been to

remove judges from the possibility of being subjected to a temptation,

or to a pressure, which may deflect them from impartiality as between

suitors. In modern civilization, especially, nothing is so fatal to the

principle of order as inequality in the dispensation of justice, and it

would have been reasonable to suppose that Americans, beyond all others,

would have been alive to this teaching of experience, and have

studiously withdrawn their bench from politics. In fact they have

ignored it, and instead they have set their judiciary at the focus of

conflicting forces. The result has been the more unfortunate as the

English system of jurisprudence is ill calculated to bear the strain, it

being inflexible. In theory the English law moves logically from

precedent to precedent, the judge originating nothing, only elaborating

ideas which he has received from a predecessor, and which are binding on

him. If the line of precedents leads to wrongful conclusions, the

legislature must intervene with a statute rectifying the wrong. The

Romans, who were gifted with a higher legal genius than we, managed

better. The praetor, by his edict, suppressed inconvenient precedents,

and hence the Romans maintained flexibility in their municipal law

without falling into confusion. We have nothing to correspond to the

praetor.

Thus the English system of binding precedents is troublesome enough in a

civilization in chronic and violent flux like modern civilization, even

when applied to ordinary municipal law which may be changed at will by

legislation, but it brings society almost to a stand when applied to the

most vital functions of government, with no means at hand to obtain a

corrective. For the court of last resort having once declared the

meaning of a clause of the Constitution, that meaning remains fixed

forever, unless the court either reverses itself, which is a disaster,

or the Constitution can be amended by the states, which is not only

difficult, but which, even if it be possible, entails years of delay.

Yet pressing emergencies arise, emergencies in which a settlement of

some kind must almost necessarily be reached somewhat rapidly to avert

very serious disorders, and it has been under this tension, as I

understand American constitutional development, that our courts have

resorted to legislation. Nor is it fair for us to measure the sagacity

of our great jurists by the standard of modern experience. They lived

before the acceleration of movement by electricity and steam. They could

not foresee the rapidity and the profundity of the changes which were

imminent. Hence it was that, in the spirit of great lawyers, who were

also possibly men tinged with a certain enthusiasm for the ideal, they

began their work by ruling on the powers and limitations of sovereignty,

as if they were ruling on the necessity of honest intent in dealings

with one's neighbor.

In 1789 General Washington is said to have offered John Jay his choice

of offices under the new government, and Jay chose the chief

justiceship, because there he thought he could make his influence felt

most widely. If so he had his wish, and very shortly met with

disappointment. In the August Term of 1792, one Chisholm, a citizen of

South Carolina, sued the State of Georgia for a debt. Georgia declined

to appear, and in February, 1793, Jay, in an elaborate opinion, gave

judgment for Chisholm. Jay was followed by his associates with the

exception of Iredell, J., of North Carolina. Forthwith a ferment began,

and in the very next session of Congress an amendment to the

Constitution was proposed to make such suits impossible. In January,

1798, five years after the case was argued, this amendment was declared

to be adopted, but meanwhile Jay had resigned to become governor of New

York. In December, 1800, he was again offered the chief justiceship by

John Adams, on the resignation of Oliver Ellsworth, but Jay resolutely

declined. I have often wondered whether Jay's mortification at having

his only important constitutional decision summarily condemned by the

people may not have given him a distaste for judicial life.

The Federalist attempt to enforce on the states a positive rule of

economic morality, therefore, collapsed at once, but it still remained

possible to approach the same problem from its negative side, through

the clause of the Constitution which forbade any state to impair the

validity of contracts, and Marshall took up this aspect of the task

where Jay left it. In Marshall's mind his work was simple. He had only

to determine the nature of a contract, and the rest followed

automatically. All contracts were to be held sacred. Their greater or

less importance was immaterial.

In 1810 Marshall expounded this general principle in Fletcher _v_.

Peck.[18] "When ... a law is in its nature a contract ... a repeal of

the law cannot devest" rights which have vested under it. A couple of

years later he applied his principle to the extreme case of an unlimited

remission of taxation.[19] The State of New Jersey had granted an

exemption from taxation to lands ceded to certain Indians. Marshall held

that this contract ran with the land, and inured to the benefit of

grantees from the Indians. If the state cared to resume its power of

taxation, it must buy the grant back, and the citizens of New Jersey

must pay for their improvidence.

Seven years later, in 1810, Marshall may, perhaps, be said to have

reached the culmination of his career, for then he carried his moral

standard to a breaking strain. But, though his theory broke down,

perhaps the most striking evidence of his wonderful intellectual

superiority is that he convinced the Democrat, Joseph Story,--a man who

had been nominated by Madison to oppose him, and of undoubted strength

of character,--of the soundness of his thesis. In 1769 King George III

incorporated certain Trustees of Dartmouth College. The charter was

accepted and both real and personal property were thereupon conveyed to

this corporate body, in trust for educational purposes. In 1816 the

legislature of New Hampshire reorganized the board of trustees against

their will. If the incorporation amounted to a contract, the Court was

clear that this statute impaired it; therefore the only really debatable

issue was whether the grant of a charter by the king amounted to a

contract by him, with his subjects to whom he granted it. After

prolonged consideration Marshall concluded that it did, and I conceive

that, in the eye of history, he was right. Throughout the Middle Ages

corporate privileges of all kinds, but especially municipal corporate

privileges, had been subjects of purchase and sale, and indeed the

mediaeval social system rested on such contracts. So much was this the

case that the right to return members of Parliament from incorporated

boroughs was, as Lord Eldon pointed out in the debates on the Reform

Bill, as much private property "as any of your lordships'" titles and

peerages.

It was here that Marshall faltered. He felt that the public would not

support him if he held that states could not alter town and county

charters, so he arbitrarily split corporations in halves, protecting

only those which handled exclusively private funds, and abandoning

"instruments of government," as he called them, to the mercy of

legislative assemblies.

Toward 1832 it became convenient for middle class Englishmen to

confiscate most of the property which the aristocracy had invested in

parliamentary boroughs, and this social revolution was effected without

straining the judicial system, because of the supremacy of Parliament.

In America, at about the same time, it became, in like manner,

convenient to confiscate numerous equally well-vested rights, because,

to have compensated the owners would have entailed a considerable

sacrifice which neither the public nor the promoters of new enterprises

were willing to make. The same end was reached in America as in England,

in spite of Chief Justice Marshall and the Dartmouth College Case, only

in America it was attained by a legal somerset which has disordered the

course of justice ever since.

In 1697 King William III incorporated Trinity Church in the City of New

York, confirming to the society the possession of a parcel of land,

adjoining the church, to be used as a churchyard for the burial of the

dead. In 1823 the government of New York prohibited interments within

the city limits, thus closing the churchyard for the purposes for which

it had been granted. As compensation was refused, it appeared to be a

clear case of confiscation, and Trinity resisted. In the teeth of recent

precedents the Supreme Court of New York decided that, under the _Police

Power_, the legislature of New York might authorize this sort of

appropriation of private property for sanitary purposes, without paying

the owners for any loss they might thereby sustain.[20]

The court thus simply dispensed the legislature from obedience to the

law, saying in effect, "although the Constitution forbids impairing

contracts, and although this is a contract which you have impaired, yet,

in our discretion, we suspend the operation of the Constitution, in this

instance, by calling your act an exercise of a power unknown to the

framers of the Constitution." I cannot doubt that Marshall would have

flouted this theory had he lived to pass upon it, but Marshall died in

1835, and the Charles River Bridge Case, in which this question was

first presented to the Supreme Court of the United States, did not come

up until 1837. Then Joseph Story, who remained as the representative of

Marshall's philosophy upon the bench, vehemently protested against the

latitudinarianism of Chief Justice Taney and his associates, but without

producing the slightest effect.

In 1785 the Massachusetts legislature chartered the Charles River Bridge

Company to build a bridge between Boston and Charlestown, authorizing

it, by way of consideration, to collect tolls for forty years. In 1792

the franchise was extended to seventy years, when the bridge was to

revert to the Commonwealth. In 1828 the legislature chartered the Warren

Bridge Company, expressly to build a bridge parallel to and practically

adjoining the Charles River Bridge, the Warren Bridge to become a free

bridge after six years. The purpose, of course, was to accelerate

movement by ruining the Charles River Bridge Company. The Charles River

Bridge Company sought to restrain the building of the Warren Bridge as a

breach of contract by the State, but failed to obtain relief in the

state courts, and before the cause could be argued at Washington the

Warren Bridge had become free and had destroyed the value of the Charles

River Bridge, though its franchise had still twenty years to run. As

Story pointed out, no one denied that the charter of the Charles River

Bridge Company was a contract, and, as he insisted, it is only common

sense as well as common justice and elementary law, that contracts of

this character should be reasonably interpreted so far as quiet

enjoyment of the consideration granted is concerned; but all this

availed nothing. The gist of the opposing argument is contained in a

single sentence in the opinion of the Chief Justice who spoke for the

majority of the court: "The millions of property which have been

invested in railroads and canals, upon lines of travel which had been

before occupied by turnpike corporations, will be put in jeopardy" if

this doctrine is to prevail.[21]

The effect of the adoption by the Supreme Court of the United States of

the New York theory of the Police Power was to vest in the judiciary, by

the use of this catch-word, an almost unparalleled prerogative. They

assumed a supreme function which can only be compared to the Dispensing

Power claimed by the Stuarts, or to the authority which, according to

the Council of Constance, inheres in the Church, to "grant indulgences

for reasonable causes." I suppose nothing in modern judicial history has

ever resembled this assumption; and yet, when we examine it, we find it

to be not only the logical, but the inevitable, effect of those

mechanical causes which constrain mankind to move along the lines of

least resistance.

Marshall, in a series of decisions, laid down a general principle which

had been proved to be sound when applied by ordinary courts, dealing

with ordinary social forces, and operating under the corrective power of

either a legislature or a praetor, but which had a different aspect

under the American constitutional system. He held that the fundamental

law, embodied in the Constitution, commanded that all contracts should

be sacred. Therefore he, as a judge, had but two questions to resolve:

First, whether, in the case before him, a contract had been proved to

exist. Second, admitting that a contract had been proved, whether it had

also been shown to have been impaired.

Within ten years after these decisions it had been found in practice

that public opinion would not sustain so rigid an administration of the

law. No legislature could intervene, and a pressure was brought to bear

which the judges could not withstand; therefore, the Court yielded,

declaring that if impairing a contract were, on the whole, for the

public welfare, the Constitution, as Marshall interpreted it, should be

suspended in favor of the legislation which impaired it. They called

this suspension the operation of the "Police Power." It followed, as the

"Police Power" could only come into operation at the discretion of the

Court, that, therefore, within the limits of judicial discretion,

confiscation, however arbitrary and to whatever extent, might go on. In

the energetic language of the Supreme Court of Maine: "This duty and

consequent power override all statute or contract exemptions. The state

cannot free any person or corporation from subjection to this power.

All personal, as well as property rights must be held subject to the

Police Power of the state."[22]

Once the theory of the Police Power was established it became desirable

to define the limits of judicial discretion, but that proved to be

impossible. It could not be determined in advance by abstract reasoning.

Hence, as each litigation arose, the judges could follow no rule but the

rule of common sense, and the Police Power, translated into plain

English, presently came to signify whatever, at the moment, the judges

happened to think reasonable. Consequently, they began guessing at the

drift of public opinion, as it percolated to them through the medium of

their education and prejudices. Sometimes they guessed right and

sometimes wrong, and when they guessed wrong they were cast aside, as

appeared dramatically enough in the temperance agitation.

Up to about the middle of the last century the lawfulness of the liquor

business had been unquestioned in the United States, and money had been

invested as freely in it as in any other legitimate enterprise; but, as

the temperance agitation swept over the country, in obedience to the

impulsion given by science to the study of hygiene, dealing in liquor

came to be condemned as a crime. Presently legislatures began to pass

statutes to confiscate, more or less completely, this kind of property,

and sufferers brought their cases before the courts to have the

constitutionality of the acts tested, under the provisions which existed

in all state constitutions, forbidding the taking, by the public, of

private property without compensation, or without due process of law.

Such a provision existed hi the constitution of the State of New York,

adopted in 1846, and it was to invoke the protection of this clause that

one Wynehamer, who had been indicted in 1855, carried his case to the

Court of Appeals in the year 1856. In that cause Mr. Justice Comstock,

who was one of the ablest jurists New York ever produced, gave an

opinion which is a model of judicial' reasoning. He showed conclusively

the absurdity of constitutional restrictions, if due process of law may

be held to mean the enactment of the very statute drawn to work

confiscation.[23] This decision, which represented the profoundest

convictions of men of the calibre of Comstock and Denio, deserves to

rank with Marshall's effort in the Dartmouth College Case. In both

instances the tribunal exerted itself to carry out Hamilton's principle

of judicial duty by exercising its _judgment_ and not its _will_. In

other words, the judges propounded a general rule and then simply

determined whether the set of facts presented to them fell within that

rule. They resolutely declined to legislate by entering upon a

consideration of the soundness or reasonableness of the policy which

underlay the action of the legislature. In the one case as in the other

the effort was unavailing, as Jefferson prophesied that it would be. I

have told of Marshall's overthrow in the Charles River Bridge Case, and

in 1887, after controversies of this category had begun to come before

the Supreme Court of the United States under the Fourteenth Amendment,

Mr. Justice Harlan swept Mr. Justice Comstock aside by quietly ignoring

an argument which was unanswerable.[24] The same series of phenomena

have appeared in regard to laws confiscating property invested in

lotteries, when opinion turned against lotteries, or in occupations

supposed to be unsanitary, as in the celebrated case of the taxing out

of existence of the rendering establishment which had been erected as a

public benefit to relieve the City of Chicago of its offal.[25] In fine,

whenever pressure has reached a given intensity, on one pretext or

another, courts have enforced or dispensed with constitutional

limitations with quite as much facility as have legislatures, and for

the same reasons. The only difference has been that the pressure which

has operated most directly upon courts has not always been the pressure

which has swayed legislatures, though sometimes both influences have

combined. For example, during the Civil War, the courts sanctioned

everything the popular majority demanded under the pretext of the War

Power, as in peace they have sanctioned confiscations for certain

popular purposes, under the name of the Police Power. But then, courts

have always been sensitive to financial influences, and if they have

been flexible in permitting popular confiscation when the path of least

resistance has lain that way, they have gone quite as far in the

reverse direction when the amount of capital threatened has been large

enough to be with them a countervailing force.

As the federal Constitution originally contained no restriction upon the

states touching the confiscation of the property of their own citizens,

provided contracts were not impaired, it was only in 1868, by the

passage of the Fourteenth Amendment, that the Supreme Court of the

United States acquired the possibility of becoming the censor of state

legislation in such matters. Nor did the Supreme Court accept this

burden very willingly or in haste. For a number of years it labored to

confine its function to defining the limits of the Police Power,

guarding itself from the responsibility of passing upon the

"reasonableness" with which that power was used. It was only by somewhat

slow degrees, as the value of the threatened property grew to be vast,

that the Court was deflected from this conservative course into

effective legislation. The first prayers for relief came from the

Southern states, who were still groaning under reconstruction

governments; but as the Southern whites were then rather poor, their

complaints were neglected. The first very famous cause of this category

is known as the Slaughter House Cases. In 1869 the Carpet Bag government

of Louisiana conceived the plan of confiscating most of the property of

the butchers who slaughtered for New Orleans, within a district about as

large as the State of Rhode Island. The Fourteenth Amendment forbade

states to deprive any person of life, liberty, or property, without due

process of law, and the butchers of New Orleans prayed for protection,

alleging that the manner in which their property had been taken was

utterly lawless. But the Supreme Court declined to interfere, explaining

that the Fourteenth Amendment had been contrived to protect the

emancipated slaves, and not to make the federal judiciary "a perpetual

censor upon all legislation of the states, on the civil rights of their

own citizens, with authority to nullify such as it did not approve."[26]

Although, even at that relatively early day, this conservatism met with

strong opposition within the Court itself, the pressure of vested wealth

did not gather enough momentum to overcome the inertia of the bench for

nearly another generation. It was the concentration of capital in

monopoly, and the consequent effort by the public to regulate monopoly

prices, which created the stress which changed the legal equilibrium.

The modern American monopoly seems first to have generated that amount

of friction, which habitually finds vent in a great litigation, about

the year 1870; but only some years later did the states enter upon a

determined policy of regulating monopoly prices by law, with the

establishment by the Illinois legislature of a tariff for the Chicago

elevators. The elevator companies resisted, on the ground that

regulation of prices in private business was equivalent to confiscation,

and so in 1876 the Supreme Court was dragged into this fiercest of

controversies, thereby becoming subject to a stress to which no

judiciary can safely be exposed. Obviously two questions were presented

for adjudication: The first, which by courtesy might be termed legal,

was whether the fixing of prices by statute was a prerogative which a

state legislature might constitutionally exercise at all; the second,

which was purely political, was whether, admitting that, in the

abstract, such a power could be exercised by the state, Illinois had,

in this particular case, behaved _reasonably_. The Supreme Court made a

conscientious effort to adhere to the theory of Hamilton, that it

should, in emergencies like this, use its _judgment_ only, and not its

_will_; that it should lay down a rule, not vote on the wisdom of a

policy. So the judges decided that, from time immemorial, the fixing of

prices in certain trades and occupations had been a legislative

function, which they supposed might be classified as a branch of the

Police Power, but they declared that with this expression of opinion

their jurisdiction ended. When it came to asking them to criticise the

propriety of legislation, it was, in substance, proposing that they

should substitute their _will_ for the _will_ of the representatives of

the people, which was impossible. I well remember the stir made by the

case of Munn _v_. Illinois.[27]

Both in and out of the legal profession, those in harmony with the great

vested interests complained that the Court had shirked its duty. But

these complaints soon ceased, for a movement was in progress which

swept, for the moment, all before it. The great aggregations of capital,

which had been accumulating ever since the Charles River Bridge Case,

not long after Munn _v._ Illinois attained to a point at which they

began to grasp many important prerogatives of sovereignty, and to

impose, what was tantamount to, arbitrary taxation upon a large scale.

The crucial trial of strength came on the contest for control of the

railways, and in that contest concentrated capital prevailed. The

Supreme Court reversed its attitude, and undertook to do that which it

had solemnly protested it could not do. It began to censor legislation

in the interest of the strongest force for the time being, that force

being actually financial. By the year 1800 the railway interest had

expanded prodigiously. Between 1876 and 1890 the investment in railways

had far more than doubled, and, during the last five years of this

period, the increment had been at an average of about $450,000,000

annually. At this point the majority of the court yielded, as ordinary

political chambers always must yield, to extraordinary pressure. Mr.

Justice Bradley, however, was not an ordinary man. He was, on the

contrary, one of the ablest and strongest lawyers who sat on the federal

bench during the last half of the nineteenth century; and Bradley, like

Story before him, remonstrated against turning the bench of magistrates,

to which he belonged, from a tribunal which should propound general

rules applicable to all material facts, into a jury to find verdicts on

the reasonableness of the votes of representative assemblies. The

legislature of Minnesota, in 1887, passed a statute to regulate railway

rates, and provided that the findings of the commission which it erected

to fix those rates should be final. The Chicago, Milwaukee & St. Paul

Railway contended that this statute was unconstitutional, because it was

unreasonable, and the majority of the Court sustained their

contention.[28] Justices Bradley, Gray, and Lamar dissented, and Bradley

on this occasion delivered an opinion, from which I shall quote a

paragraph or two, since the argument appears to me conclusive, not only

from the point of view of law, but of political expediency and of common

sense:--

"I cannot agree to the decision of the court in this case. It

practically overrules Munn _v._ Illinois.... The governing principle of

those cases was that the regulation and settlement of the fares of

railroads and other public accommodations is a legislative prerogative,

and not a judicial one. This is a principle which I regard as of great

importance....

"But it is said that all charges should be reasonable, and that none but

reasonable charges can be exacted; and it is urged that what is a

reasonable charge is a judicial question. On the contrary, it is

preëminently a legislative one, involving considerations of policy as

well as of remuneration.... By the decision now made we declare, in

effect, that the judiciary, and not the legislature, is the final

arbiter in the regulation of fares and freights of railroads.... It is

an assumption of authority on the part of the judiciary which, ... it

has no right to make. The assertion of jurisdiction by this court makes

it the duty of every court of general jurisdiction, state or federal, to

entertain complaints [of this nature], for all courts are bound by the

Constitution of the United States, the same as we are."

There is little to add to these words. When the Supreme Court thus

undertook to determine the reasonableness of legislation it assumed,

under a somewhat thin disguise, the position of an upper chamber, which,

though it could not originate, could absolutely veto most statutes

touching the use or protection of property, for the administration of

modern American society now hinges on this doctrine of judicial

dispensation under the Police Power. Whether it be a regulation of rates

and prices, of hours of labor, of height of buildings, of municipal

distribution of charity, of flooding a cranberry bog, or of prescribing

to sleeping-car porters duties regarding the lowering of upper

berths,--in questions great and small, the courts vote upon the

reasonableness of the use of the Police Power, like any old-fashioned

town meeting. There is no rule of law involved. There is only opinion or

prejudice, or pecuniary interest. The judges admit frankly that this is

so. They avow that they try to weigh public opinion, as well as they

can, and then vote. In 1911 Mr. Justice Holmes first explained that the

Police Power extended to all great public needs, and then went on to

observe that this Police Power, or extraordinary prerogative, might be

put forth by legislatures "in aid of what is sanctioned by usage, or

held by ... preponderant opinion to be ... necessary to the public

welfare."[29]

A representative chamber reaches its conclusions touching "preponderant

opinion" by a simple process, but the influences which sway courts are

obscurer,--often, probably, beyond the sphere of the consciousness of

the judges themselves. Nor is this the worst; for, as I have already

explained, the very constitution of a court, if it be a court calculated

to do its legitimate work upon a lofty level, precludes it from keeping

pace with the movement in science and the arts. Necessarily it lags some

years behind. And this tendency, which is a benefit in the dispensation

of justice as between private litigants, becomes a menace when courts

are involved in politics. A long line of sinister precedents crowd

unbidden upon the mind. The Court of King's Bench, when it held Hampden

to be liable for the Ship Money, draped the scaffold for Charles I. The

Parliament of Paris, when it denounced Turgot's edict touching the

corvée, threw wide the gate by which the aristocracy of France passed to

the guillotine. The ruling of the Superior Court of the Province of

Massachusetts Bay, in the case of the Writs of Assistance, presaged the

American Revolution; and the Dred Scott decision was the prelude to the

Civil War.

The capital essential of justice is that, under like conditions, all

should fare alike. The magistrate should be no respecter of persons. The

vice of our system of judicial dispensation is that it discriminates

among suitors in proportion to their power of resistance. This is so

because, under adequate pressure, our courts yield along the path of

least resistance. I should not suppose that any man could calmly turn

over the pages of the recent volumes of the reports of the Supreme Court

of the United States and not rise from the perusal convinced that the

rich and the poor, the strong and the weak, do not receive a common

measure of justice before that judgment seat. Disregarding the

discrimination which is always apparent against those who are unpopular,

or who suffer under special opprobrium, as do liquor dealers, owners of

lotteries, and the like,[30] I will take, nearly at random, a couple of

examples of rate regulation, where tenderness has been shown property in

something approaching to a mathematical ratio to the amount involved.

In April, 1894, a record was produced before the Supreme Court which

showed that the State of North Dakota had in 1891 established rates for

elevating and storing grain, which rates the defendant, named Brass, who

owned a small elevator, alleged to be, to him in particular, _utterly_

ruinous, and to be in general unreasonable. He averred that he used his

elevator for the storage of his own grain, that it cost about $3000,

that he had no monopoly, as there were many hundred such elevators in

the state, and, as land fit for the purpose of building elevators was

plenty and cheap, that any man could build an elevator in the town in

which he lived, as well as he; that the rates he charged were

reasonable, and that, were he compelled to receive grain generally at

the rates fixed by the statute, he could not store his own grain. All

these facts were admitted by demurrer, and Brass contended that if any

man's property were ever to be held to be appropriated by the public

without compensation, and under no form of law at all save a predatory

statute, it should be his; but the Supreme Court voted the Dakota

statute to be a reasonable exercise of the Police Power,[31] and

dismissed Brass to his fate.

The converse case is a very famous one known as Smyth _v._ Ames,[32]

decided four years later, in 1898. In that case it appeared that the

State of Nebraska had, in 1893, reduced freight rates within the state

about twenty-nine per cent, in order to bring them into some sort of

relation to the rates charged in the adjoining State of Iowa, which were

calculated to be forty per cent lower than the Nebraska rates. Several

of the most opulent and powerful corporations of the Union were affected

by this law, among others the exceedingly prosperous and influential

Chicago, Burlington & Quincy Railway. No one pretended that, were the

law to be enforced, the total revenues of the Burlington would be

seriously impaired, nor was it even clear that, were the estimate of

reduction, revenue, and cost confined altogether to the commerce carried

on within the limits of the State of Nebraska, leaving interstate

commerce out of consideration, a loss would be suffered during the

following year. Trade might increase with cheaper rates, or economies

might be made by the company, or both causes and many others of

increased earnings might combine. Corporation counsel, however, argued

that, were the principle of the statute admitted, and should all the

states through which the line passed do the like, ultimately a point

might be reached at which the railway would be unable to maintain, even

approximately, its dividend of eight per cent, and that the creation of

such a possibility was conceding the power of confiscation, and,

therefore, an unreasonable exercise of the Police Power, by the State of

Nebraska. With this argument the Supreme Court concurred. They held the

Nebraska statute to be unreasonable. Very possibly it may have been

unsound legislation, yet it is noteworthy that within three years after

this decision Mr. Hill bought the Chicago, Burlington & Quincy, at the

rate of $200 for every share of stock of the par value of $100, thus

fixing forever, on the community tributary to the road, the burden of

paying a revenue on just double the value of all the stock which it had

been found necessary to issue to build the highway. Even at this price

Mr. Hill is supposed to have made a brilliant bargain.

This brings me to the heart of my theorem. Ever since Hamilton's time,

it has been assumed as axiomatic, by conservative Americans, that courts

whose function is to expound a written constitution can and do act as a

"barrier to the encroachments and oppressions of the representative

body."[33] I apprehend that courts can perform no such office and that

in assuming attributes beyond the limitations of their being they, as

history has abundantly proved, not only fail in their object, but shake

the foundations of authority, and immolate themselves. Hitherto I have

confined myself to adducing historical evidence to prove that American

courts have, as a whole, been gifted with so little political sagacity

that their interference with legislation, on behalf of particular

suitors, has, in the end, been a danger rather than a protection to

those suitors, because of the animosity which it has engendered. I shall

now go further. For the sake of argument I am willing to admit that the

courts, in the exercise of the dispensing prerogative, called the

Police Power, have always acted wisely, so much so that every such

decree which they have issued may be triumphantly defended upon

economic, moral, or social grounds. Yet, assuming this to be true,

though I think I have shown it to be untrue, the assumption only

strengthens my contention, that our courts have ceased to be true

courts, and are converted into legislative chambers, thereby promising

shortly to become, if they are not already, a menace to order. I take it

to be clear that the function of a legislature is to embody the will of

the dominant social force, for the time being, in a political policy

explained by statutes, and when that policy has reached a certain stage

of development, to cause it to be digested, together with the judicial

decisions relevant to it, in a code. This process of correlation is the

highest triumph of the jurist, and it was by their easy supremacy in

this field of thought, that Roman lawyers chiefly showed their

preeminence as compared with modern lawyers. Still, while admitting this

superiority, it is probably true that the Romans owed much of their

success in codification to the greater permanence of the Roman

legislative tenure of office, and, therefore, stability of

policy,--phenomena which were both probably effects of a slower social

movement among the ancients. The Romans, therefore, had less need than

we of a permanent judiciary to counteract the disintegrating tendency of

redundant legislation; _a fortiori_, of course, they had still less to

isolate the judiciary from political onslaughts which might cause

justice to become a series of exceptions to general principles, rather

than a code of unvarying rules.

It is precisely because they are, and are intended to be, arenas of

political combat, that legislatures cannot be trustworthy courts, and it

was because this fact was notorious that the founders of this government

tried to separate the legislative from the judicial function, and to

make this separation the foundation of the new republic. They failed, as

I conceive, not because they made their legislatures courts, but

because, under the system they devised, their courts have become

legislatures. A disease, perhaps, the more insidious of the two.

Insidious because it undermines, order, while legislative murder and

confiscation induce reaction.

If a legislative chamber would act as a court, the first necessity is to

eliminate its legislative character. For example, the House of Lords in

England has long discharged the duties of a tribunal of last resort for

the empire, and with general approbation, but only because, when sitting

as a court, the law lords sit alone. Politicians and political

influences are excluded. Where political influences enter disaster

follows. Hence the infamous renown of political decisions in legal

controversies, such as bills of attainder and _ex post facto_ laws, or

special legislation to satisfy claims which could not be defended before

legitimate courts, or the scandals always attending the trial of

election petitions. The object of true courts is to shield the public

from these and kindred abuses.

In primitive communities courts are erected to defend the weak against

the strong, by correlating local customs in such wise that some general

principle can be deduced which shall protect the civil rights of those

who cannot protect themselves, against the arbitrary exactions of

powerful neighbors. In no community can every person have equal civil

rights. That is impossible. Civil rights must vary according to status.

But such rights as any person may have, those the courts are bound to

guard indifferently. If the courts do not perform this, their first and

most sacred duty, I apprehend that order cannot be permanently

maintained, for this is equality before the law; and equality before the

law is the cornerstone of order in every modern state.

I conceive that the lawyers of the age of Washington were the ablest

that America has ever produced. No men ever understood the principle of

equality before the law more thoroughly than they, and after the

establishment of this government a long series of great and upright

magistrates strove, as I have shown, to carry this principle into

effect. Jay and Marshall, Story and Bradley, and many, many more,

struggled, protested, and failed. Failed, as I believe, through no fault

of their own, but because fortune had placed them in a position

untenable for the judge. When plunged in the vortex of politics, courts

must waver as do legislatures, and nothing is to me more painful than to

watch the process of deterioration by which our judges lose the instinct

which should warn them to shun legislation as a breach of trust, and to

cleave to those general principles which permit of no exceptions. To

illustrate my meaning I shall refer to but one litigation, but that one

is so extraordinary that I must deal with it in detail.

In 1890 the dread of the enhancement of prices by monopoly, as the

Supreme Court itself has explained, caused Congress to pass the famous

Sherman Act, which prohibited indiscriminately all monopolies or

restraints of trade. Presently the government brought a bill to dissolve

an obnoxious railway pool, called the Trans-Missouri Freight

Association, and in 1896 the case came up for adjudication. I have

nothing to say touching the policy involved. I am only concerned with a

series of phenomena, developed through several years, as effects of

pressure acting upon a judiciary, exposed as the judiciary, under our

system, is exposed.

The Trans-Missouri Case was argued on December 8, 1896, very elaborately

and by the most eminent counsel. After long consideration, and profound

reflection, Mr. Justice Peckham, speaking for the majority of the

tribunal, laid down a general principle in conformity to the legislative

will, precisely as Marshall had laid down a general principle in the

Dartmouth College Case, or Story in the Charles River Bridge Case, or

Waite in Munn _v_. Illinois, or Bradley in the Minnesota Rate Case. Then

the process of agitation immediately began. In the words of Mr. Justice

Harlan, fifteen years later: "But those who were in combinations that

were illegal did not despair. They at once set up the baseless claim

that the decision of 1896 disturbed the 'business interests of the

country,' and let it be known that they would never be content until the

rule was established that would permit interstate commerce to be

subjected to _reasonable_ restraints."[34]

Other great causes, involving the same issue, were tried, the question

was repeatedly reargued, but the Supreme Court tenaciously adhered to

its general principle, that, under the Sherman Act, _all_ restraints of

trade, or monopolies, were unlawful, and, therefore, the Court had but

two matters before it, first to define a restraint of trade or a

monopoly, second to determine whether the particular combination

complained of fell within that definition. No discretion was permitted.

Judicial duty ended there.

The Court being found to be inflexible, recourse was had to Congress,

and a bill in the form of an amendment to the Sherman Act was brought

into the Senate authorizing, in substance, those who felt unsafe under

the law, to apply to certain government officials, to be permitted to

produce evidence of the reasonable methods they employed, and, if the

evidence were satisfactory, to receive, what was tantamount to, an

indulgence. The subject thus reopened, the Senate Committee on the

Judiciary went into the whole question of monopoly anew, and in 1909

Senator Nelson presented an exhaustive report against the proposed

relaxation. Thereupon the Senate indefinitely postponed further

consideration of the amendment. The chief reasons given by Senator

Nelson were summed up in a single sentence: "The defence of reasonable

restraint would be made in every case and there would be as many

different rules of reasonableness as cases, courts, and juries.... To

amend the anti-trust act, as suggested by this bill, would be to

entirely emasculate it, and for all practical purposes render it

nugatory as a remedial statute.... The act as it exists is clear,

comprehensive, certain and highly remedial. It practically covers the

field of federal jurisdiction, and is in every respect a model law. To

destroy or undermine it at the present juncture, ... would be a

calamity.

"In view of the foregoing, your committee recommend the indefinite

postponement of the bill."[35]

And so the Senate did indefinitely postpone the bill.

Matters stood thus when the government brought process to dissolve the

Standard Oil Company, as an unlawful combination. The cause was decided

on May 15, 1911, the Chief Justice speaking for the majority of the

bench, in one of the most suggestive opinions which I have ever read. To

me this opinion, like Taney's opinion in the Charles River Bridge Case,

indicates that the tension had reached the breaking point, the court

yielding in all directions at once, while the dominant preoccupation of

the presiding judge seemed to be to plant his tribunal in such a

position that it could so yield, without stultifying itself hopelessly

before the legal profession and the public. In striving to reach this

position, however, I apprehend that the Chief Justice, unreservedly,

crossed the chasm on whose brink American jurists had been shuddering

for ninety years. The task the Chief Justice assumed was difficult

almost beyond precedent. He proposed to surrender to the vested

interests the principle of _reasonableness_ which they demanded, and

which the tribunal he represented, together with Congress, had refused

to surrender for fifteen years. To pacify the public, which would

certainly resent this surrender, he was prepared to punish two hated

corporations, while he strove to preserve, so far as he could, the

respect of the legal profession and of the public, for the court over

which he presided, by maintaining a semblance of consistency.

To accomplish these contradictory results, the Chief Justice began,

rather after the manner of Marshall in Marbury _v_. Madison, by an

extra-judicial disquisition. The object of this disquisition was to

justify his admission of the evidence of reasonableness as a defence,

although it was not needful to decide that such evidence must be

admitted in order to dispose of that particular cause. For the Chief

Justice very readily agreed that the Standard Oil Company was, in fact,

an unreasonable restraint of trade, and must be dissolved, no matter

whether it were allowed to prove its reasonable methods or not.

Accordingly, he might have contented himself with stating that,

admitting for the sake of argument but without approving, all the

defendant advanced, he should sustain the government; but to have so

disposed of the case would not have suited his purpose. What the Chief

Justice had it at heart to do was to surrender a fundamental principle,

and yet to appear to make no surrender at all. Hence, he prepared his

preliminary and extra-judicial essay on the human reason, of whose

precise meaning, I must admit, I still, after many perusals, have grave

doubts. I sometimes suspect that the Chief Justice did not wish to be

too explicit. So far as I comprehend the Chief Justice, his chain of

reasoning amounted to something like this: It was true, he observed,

that for fifteen years the Supreme Court had rejected the evidence of

reasonableness which he admitted, and had insisted upon a general

principle which he might be supposed to renounce, but this apparent

discrepancy involved no contradiction. It was only a progression in

thought. For, he continued, the judges who, on various previous

occasions, sustained that general principle, must have reached their

conclusions by the light of reason; to-day we reach a contrary

conclusion, but we also do so by the light of reason; therefore, as all

these decisions are guided by the light of reason they fundamentally

coincide, however much superficially they may seem to differ.[36]

I have never supposed that this argument carried complete conviction

either to the legal profession, to the public, or to Congress.

Certainly, it did not convince Mr. Justice Harlan, who failed to fathom

it, and bluntly expressed his astonishment in a dissenting opinion in

another cause from which I regret to say I can only quote a couple of

paragraphs, although the whole deserves attentive perusal:--

"If I do not misapprehend the opinion just delivered, the Court insists

that what was said in the opinion in the Standard Oil Case, was in

accordance with our previous decisions in the Trans-Missouri and Joint

Traffic Cases, ... if we resort to _reason_. This statement surprises me

quite as much as would a statement that black was white or white was

black."

"But now the Court, in accordance with what it denominates the 'rule of

reason,' in effect inserts in the act the word 'undue,' which means the

same as 'unreasonable,' and thereby makes Congress say what it did not

say.... And what, since the passage of the act, it has explicitly

refused to say.... In short, the Court now, by judicial legislation, in

effect, amends an Act of Congress relating to a subject over which that

department of the Government has exclusive cognizance."[37]

The phenomenon which amazed Mr. Justice Harlan is, I conceive, perfectly

comprehensible, if we reflect a little on the conflict of forces

involved, and on the path of least resistance open to an American judge

seeking to find for this conflict, a resultant. The regulation or the

domination of monopoly was an issue going to the foundation of society,

and popular and financial energy had come into violent impact in regard

to the control of prices. Popular energy found vent through Congress,

while the financiers, as financiers always have and always will, took

shelter behind the courts. Congress, in 1890, passed a statute to

constrain monopolies, against which financiers protested as being a

species of confiscation, and which the Chief Justice himself thought

harsh. To this statute the Supreme Court gave a harsh construction, as

the Chief Justice had more than once pointed out, when he was still an

associate upon the bench. From a series of these decisions an appeal had

been made to Congress, and the Senate, in the report from which I have

quoted, had sustained the construction given to the statute by the

majority of his brethren with whom the Chief Justice differed. Since the

last of these decisions, however, the complexion of the bench had been

considerably changed by new appointments, much as it had been after

Hepburn _v_. Griswold, and an opportunity seemed to be presented to

conciliate every one.

In any other country than the United States, a chief justice so situated

would doubtless have affirmed the old precedents, permitting himself, at

most, to point out the mischief which, he thought, they worked. Not so a

lawyer nurtured under the American constitutional system, which breeds

in the judge the conviction that he is superior to the legislator. His

instinct, under adequate pressure, is always to overrule anything

repugnant to him that a legitimate legislative assembly may have done.

In this instance, had the case been one of first impression, nothing

would have been easier than to have nullified the Sherman Act as an

unreasonable exercise of the Police Power, as judges had been nullifying

statutes of which they disapproved for a couple of generations

previously; but the case was not one of first impression. On the

contrary, the constitutionality of the Sherman Act had been so often

upheld by the judiciary that the Chief Justice himself admitted that so

long as Congress allowed him to use his reason, these "contentions

[were] plainly foreclosed." Therefore, for him the path of least

resistance was to use his _reason_, and, as a magistrate, to amend a

statute which Congress ought to have amended, but had _unreasonably_

omitted to amend. Such was the final and logical result of the blending

of judicial and legislative functions in a court, as they are blended

under the American constitutional system. Nor is it unworthy of

remark, that the Chief Justice, in abstaining from questioning the

constitutionality of the act, expressly intimated that he did so

because, by the use of his reason, he could make that reasonable and

constitutional which otherwise might be unreasonable and

unconstitutional. The defendants pressed the argument that destroying

the freedom of contract, as the Sherman Law destroyed it, was to

infringe upon the "constitutional guaranty of due process of law." To

this the Chief Justice rejoined: "But the ultimate foundation of all

these arguments is the assumption that reason may not be resorted to in

interpreting and applying the statute.... As the premise is demonstrated

to be unsound by the construction we have given the statute," these

arguments need no further notice.[38]

Should Congress amend the Sherman Act, as it seems somewhat disposed to

do, by explicitly enacting the rule of the Trans-Missouri Case, a grave

issue would be presented. The Chief Justice might submit, and thus

avert, temporarily at least, a clash; or, he might hold such an

amendment unconstitutional as denying to the Court the right to

administer the law according to due process. A trial of strength would

then be imminent.

Nearly a century ago, Jefferson wrote to Spencer Roane, "The

Constitution, on this hypothesis, is a mere thing of wax in the hands of

the judiciary, which they may twist and shape into any form they

please."[39] And however much we may recoil from admitting Jefferson's

conclusion to be true, it none the less remains the fact that it has

proved itself to be true, and that the people have recognized it to be

true, and have taken measures to protect themselves by bringing the

judiciary under the same degree of control which they enforce on other

legislators. The progression has been steady and uniform, each advance

toward an assumption of the legislative function by the judiciary having

been counterbalanced by a corresponding extension of authority over the

courts by the people. First came the protest against Marbury and Madison

in the impeachment of Chase, because, as Giles explained, if judges were

to annul laws, the dominant party must have on the bench judges they

could trust. Next the Supreme Court of New York imagined the theory of

the Police Power, which was adopted by the Supreme Court of the United

States in 1837. But it stood to reason that if judges were to suspend

constitutional limitations according to their notions of reasonableness,

the people must have the means of securing judges whose views touching

reasonableness coincided with their own. And behold, within ten years,

by the constitution of 1846, New York adopted an elective judiciary.

Then followed the Dred Scott Case, the Civil War, and the attack on

legislative authority in Hepburn _v_. Griswold. Straightway the Court

received an admonition which it remembered for a generation. Somewhat

forgetful of this, on May 15, 1911, Chief Justice White gave his opinion

in the Standard Oil Case, which followed hard upon a number of state

decisions intended to override legislation upon several burning social

issues. Forthwith, in 1912, the proposition to submit all decisions

involving a question of constitutional law to a popular vote became an

issue in a presidential election. Only one step farther could be taken,

and that we see being taken all about us. Experience has shown, in New

York and elsewhere, that an election, even for a somewhat short term,

does not bring the judge so immediately under popular control that

decisions objectionable to the majority may not be made. Hence the

recall. The degradation of the judicial function can, in theory at

least, go no farther. Thus the state courts may be said already to be

prostrate, or likely shortly to become prostrate. The United States

courts alone remain, and, should there be a struggle between them and

Congress, the result can hardly be doubted. An event has recently

occurred abroad which we may do well to ponder.

Among European nations England has long represented intelligent

conservatism, and at the heart of her conservatism lay the House of

Lords. Through many centuries; and under many vicissitudes this ancient

chamber had performed functions of the highest moment, until of late it

had come to occupy a position not dissimilar to that which the Supreme

Court of the United States yet holds. On one side it was the highest

legal tribunal of the Empire, on the other it was a non-representative

assembly, seldom indeed originating important legislation, but enjoying

an absolute veto on legislation sent it from the Commons. One day in a

moment of heated controversy the Lords vetoed a bill on which the

Commons had determined. A dissolution followed and the House of Lords,

as a political power, faded into a shadow; yet, notwithstanding this,

its preeminence as a court has remained intact. Were a similar clash to

occur in America no such result could be anticipated. Supposing a

President, supported by a congressional majority, were to formulate some

policy no more subversive than that which has been formulated by the

present British Cabinet, and this policy were to be resisted, as it

surely would be, by potent financial interests, the conflicting forces

would converge upon the Supreme Court. The courts are always believed to

tend toward conservatism, therefore they are generally supported by the

conservative interest, both here and elsewhere. In this case a dilemma

would be presented. Either the judges would seek to give expression to

"preponderant" popular opinion, or they would legislate. In the one

event they would be worthless as a restraining influence. In the other,

I apprehend, a blow would fall similar to the blow which fell upon the

House of Lords, only it would cut deeper. Shearing the House of Lords of

political power did not dislocate the administration of English justice,

because the law lords are exclusively judges. They never legislate.

Therefore no one denounced them. Not even the wildest radical demanded

that their tenure should be made elective, much less that they should be

subjected to the recall. With us an entirely different problem would be

presented for solution. A tribunal, nominally judicial, would throw

itself across the path of the national movement. It would undertake to

correct a disturbance of the social equilibrium. But what a shifting of

the social equilibrium means, and what follows upon tampering with it,

is a subject which demands a chapter by itself.

FOOTNOTES:

[18] 6 Cranch 135.

[19] New Jersey _v_. Wilson, 7 Cranch 164; decided in 1812.

[20] Coates _v_. Mayor of New York, 7 Cowen 585.

[21] Charles River Bridge _v_. Warren Bridge, 11 Peters 420, 553.

[22] Boston & Maine Railroad _v_. County Commissioners, 79 Maine 393.

[23] Wynehamer _v_. The People, 13 N.Y. 393.

[24] Mugler _v._ Kansas, 133 U.S. 623.

[25] Fertilizing Co. _v_. Hyde Park, 97 U.S. 659.

[26] Slaughter House Cases, 16 Wallace 78, decided in 1873.

[27] 94 U.S. 113.

[28] Chicago, Milwaukee & St. Paul Ry. _v._ Minnesota, 134 U.S. 461,

decided March 24, 1890.

[29] Noble State Bank _v._ Haskell, 219 U.S. 104.

[30] See the extraordinary case of Douglas _v._ Kentucky, 168 U.S. 488,

which must be read in connection with Gregory _v._ Trustees of Shelby

College, 2 Metc. (Kentucky) 589.

[31] Brass _v._ North Dakota, 133 U.S. 391.

[32] 169 U.S. 466.

[33] _The Federalist_, No. LXXVIII.

[34] 221 U.S. 91.

[35] 60th Congress, 2d Session, Senate, Report No. 848, Adverse Report

by Mr. Nelson, Amending Anti-trust Act, January 26, 1909, page 11.

[36] Standard Oil Company _v_. United States, 221 U.S. 1.

[37] United States _v_. American Tobacco Company, 221 U.S. 191, 192.

[38] 221 U.S. 69.

[39] To Spencer Roane, Sept. 6, 1819, Ford, 10, 141.

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