It is useful to see this play, in many respects besides the pleasure of observing the course of its events, the skill of the performers, and hearing the noble language of poetry and passion. Valuable information is given; we obtain an insight into characters and motives, and learn to be upon our guard against the intrigues of government, and the blinding contrivances and subterfuges of knaves in power, who, for the gratification of their own individual selfishness, their lust of domination, and their greedy appetite for accumulation to themselves alone, would cast devastation over the bosom of fertility, and sacrifice thousands and tens of thousands of better men in a fit of spleen, perhaps occasioned by some defect in the tricks of courtesy; such, at least, has been the pretence; and they will talk of wounded honour! the kingdom's wound! the nation's wound! Here we have two legal ruffians, who, in attainment of an object for which the nation of neither cared a straw, band hosts of men together, and set them to cut each other's throats, for their pleasure, with less remorse than if they were so many stock-fish or salt-herrings. Both Philip and John give ample proof that their squabble, the one in generous vindication of Arthur's rights, and the other in 'honourable' defence of his own,' had little interference with the question of justice or honesty. Honour is quite another thing; there was plenty of honour. Arthur and his cause are cast to the dogs when the generous and chivalric Philip finds he can make up the matter with greater advantage to himself. And John blusters for his own,' while each breath of his being tells him that claim to his own' is a lie. Of this cajolery we have had plenty in our time; and it is a source of lamentation in some places, that we shall not easily take much more of it, that the 'merrie England' of Toryism is gone. And, look ye, reader, the principal instigator of most of these murders, robberies, and rogueries, is that essence-bottle of sophistical villainy, Pandulf, in whose immediate closeness of trick, and remoteness and comprehensiveness of cunning, breathes and lives one, only one, wish, it makes his heart,-PRIESTLY DOMINATION; to obtain and secure which he would make the cradles of sleeping babes dens of hissing adders, and change all the crystal waters of the universe into stagnant ponds and seas of putrid blood; and the monster talks of faith and religion too!* Oh, Shakspeare! thou hast given us a record which heaven keep to us in warning, and give us sense to read, or we shall have merrie England' again.

PEL. VERJUICE,

* The reverence deep and holy, which on lawn and ermine saw God's own stamp; and in their wearers loved religion, feared the law." Vide Blackwood, of December.

No. 86.

K

122

LORD BROUGHAM'S CHANCERY REFORMS.

WELL do we remember that we were one night, some seven years ago, or more perhaps, seated in the gallery of St. Stephen's. The house was nearly empty, the gallery half full, and some of our legislators, who, unconsciously no doubt, had talked prose all their lives, were dealing abundantly from the riches of their store. On the benches behind the Speaker, others were stretched at full length; the reporters in the gallery were nodding on their seats, and the house seemed about to add another animal function to those of rising and sitting, and to be sinking into sleep profound, when by chance, a question was asked respecting the Chancery Commission, and the Charity Commission. Up hereupon jumped Henry Brougham, now Lord High Chancellor of England, keeper of the conscience of his most gracious Majesty, and the author of the Act of Parliament, 3 and 4 Gulielmi IV. cap. 94. and of the Orders in pursuance thereof, on which we intend now to comment. The whole scene was changed at once. The house filled, the procumbents rose, and the reporters were on their fullest stretch. After Mr. Brougham had answered the question as far as the Charity Commission was concerned, (a question which, by the way, we should much wish repeated,) he proceeded to ridicule the idea of good coming out of any Chancery Commission, of which a Chancellor (Lord Eldon was then Chancellor) was at the head, and so at once both judge and criminal; and in his happy way, he told a story of the only selfcondemned judge whom he knew of, some Romish cardinal, who sat in judgment upon himself, and pronounced the sentence Judico me cremari, whereupon, said the record, Adjudicatus fuit et fuit crematus. Mr. Brougham too well knew-human nature was it? No, heaven forbid, for it is not of human nature to glut itself in the pillage of the people, and in the sale of justice for fees and for power, (we do not say for bribes, because injustice is the commodity bought with them.) But he knew the nature of those who had been brought up in the school of emulation; who, from their earliest days, have been taught before every thing to elbow and fight their way above all around them; and he argued that from such but little of true, searching, benevolent reform could come. And he argued right. It is from the people, at the will and order of the many alone, that we can hope for good weeding, and clearing, and pruning, and replanting in the thorny jungle of the law. Does not his own history prove this? Henry Brougham is now Chancellor, and the mover of Chancery reform. What has he done, and what is he doing? May we trust the all-important office of law reform to such, or must we look into this part of our affairs for ourselves? Let us see.

In examining this question, important as would be the inquiry, we will not now apply ourselves to the jurisprudential arrange

ment on which the system of courts of equity is based. We will not argue on the utility of two dominant systems of law, which, with three or four petty ones, like the barons of feudal days, hold their sway in this law-ridden land. How far equity should be amalgamated with law, or how far our plan of legislating in details, which is one of the great pretences for equity, should be altogether abandoned, is not now before us. Our question merely is, how far are the powers that be, proceeding openly, fairly, honestly, and wisely, to improve the working of the present system; 'to regulate,' as the Act entitles itself, the proceedings and practice of the high Court of Chancery?' Admitting then for the present purpose, that the opposing principles of law and equity are to remain, and that a repair only of the officina justitiæ is what is desired, what are the palpable alterations which any unbiassed man, not to say any professed reformer, would at once declare for? A few monstrous absurdities may be easily mentioned. All of them, of course, must be either absurdities of principle or of practice. Those of principle, untouched as yet by Lord Brougham, are enormous in their influence of evil. The contrivance for evidence-taking may be instanced as one. Every possible precaution is used, that your opponent shall have no opportunity of even guessing at your evidence, much less of examining into it and sifting its truth, for fear, as some old case says, you should cause the witness to contradict himself, and so make him perjured, and thus 'hit the bull in the eye.' Perjury, reader, you will observe, like some other crimes (which are now considered low-lived enough) formerly encouraged among the Lacedemonians of old, and like cheating in these days among gamblers, lying among politicians, and alternate adulation and backbiting of one's acquaintance in the fashionable world, is a crime only in its detection. The absurdity of all this Mr. Bentham has exposed with his own masterly satire.

We will, however, now leave the perjury alone. As to the system of evidence, one little story, the truth of which we can vouch for, names we could give, (we were in court, and know the parties,)— will show what it can do. John A. and Thomas A. were brothers and farmers. John well to do in the world; Thomas rather otherwise. Both die. Thomas's children find a promissory note, which, as they say, by accident, was torn into three parts, and the middle lost. The body of the note was in Thomas's hand-writing. The signature of the part remaining had the surname A. upon it only; the part lost had the whole christian name on it; and by some misfortune or misfeasance, the tear of the middle part was not straight, so that the end of the christian name, which would otherwise have been there, was gone. Thomas's family alleged this note to be John's. But they refused to show them the note, and they filed a bill in Chancery to recover it from his estate. Three or four witnesses were examined

according to the privacy principles of the equity court. They swore they thought this name "A." was John's hand-writing. John's children were advised by their counsel not to attempt the feeble cross-examination of these witnesses which equity allows, as it could serve them nothing. They gave notice, therefore, to the plaintiffs, to produce the note to witnesses of theirs who knew John's writing well; but this production was refused, and, according to equity, it could not be compelled. By chance, John's widow, who knew his affairs well, had seen the note. She swore that it was not his signature, and that he had never borrowed money of his brother. In this state the cause came before that excellent Greek scholar, the Vice-Chancellor. The defendants' counsel stated the refusal to show the note to them or to their witnesses, and asked that it might be sent either to a jury or to the Master, to ascertain if the signature was John's, they paying the expenses if it turned out to be his. That excellent Greek scholar, however, said, that although it was certainly perverse in the plaintiffs not to produce the note to the defendant's witnesses, yet he was satisfied it was John's signature, and therefore should order John's estate to pay the money, without allowing any further inquiry. Now whether, according to the principles of an equity court, this may be an equitable decision, is not the question. We ask only whether such modes of taking evidence, in a country which pretends to care for freedom and justice, are to be tolerated? Would not an equity judge, to whom these things are matter of notoriety, seize on the first forlorn hope of cleansing from such filth, the fountain of equity, which his daily duty is to administer? Lord Brougham has been Chancellor between two and three years, and has brought in a much vaunted measure to purify his court, and, nevertheless, has left untouched every one of its principles. Besides the legal and money tendency of these rules, what evil, as a matter of education and influence, must they not induce on any people taught to dignify them with the name of Equity? The chicanery of the practitioner, and the dishonesty of the client, are largely attributable to this source. availing himself of them, how much of the skill of the former consists; and how little is his conduct esteemed immoral, or, rather, how much are not his talent and tact applauded, and, as a consequence, his services required, as he makes use of these impure advantages! And when the skilful use of the iniquities of the law, is so a matter of credit in the world, as to distort its moral principles and harden its feelings, is it not high time for all interested in the production of good, to detect and point out fertile sources of mischief, very little, we fear, attended to?

In

It is not by any means on its principles alone, that we found our broad condemnation of the tendency of equity as at present established. In its practice, it has numerous rules repugnant to

will be soon. It cannot be otherwise. But there appears to us no attempt to bring the machine into a state which is not pregnant with immoral influence, much less into a state in any degree commensurate with the requirements of the people. A man can hardly come out of a hostile chancery suit, if he have entered into all the working of the warfare, as honest a man as he was when he went into it; it is well if he be not greatly demoralized by it. The power of intimidation, which equity confers by its great dilatoriness and expense, is a vast source of evil. There is no more effectual way of bullying an injured man into submission, than by threatening him with a chancery suit. He is asking, perhaps, from a fraudulent executor for his share of the testator's estate, and an account of that estate; and objects to some improper charges made against it. He is told that if he says more, a bill shall be filed (by some other party probably, any one having the remotest interest will do) to pass the accounts. A long bill is filed, in which the counsel's ingenuity, after the fashion of a hydro-oxygen microscope, magnifies simple story to an almost illimitable extent. A tale of a few words among plain-spoken people, is stuffed with common form lies in the stating part of the bill; the same lies are echoed back in the charging part of the bill; and then re-echoed in the interrogatories, where every word of the bill is reiterated in the form of a question. Then follows the prayer of the bill, that the accounts may be taken; the granting of which prayer is, in this case, a thing of course, and therefore all the matter before the prayer, and all the long skins of answers which follow, might as well be entirely omitted.

These answers now follow. If the poor legatee is frightened, and does not like to incur the expense of putting in a useless answer, he is committed to the Fleet for contempt. The bill and all the answers must be respectively signed by counsel, whose fees for settling and signing them are proportioned to the length they run them to, for they draw both bills and answers, though the solicitors always charge for doing it. Next comes the evidence, if any be required. In the case above supposed there would probably be none. Then the hearing, with its preparatory subpoenas to rejoin, subpoenas to hear judgment, and many other entirely useless and therefore mischievous formulæ. The briefs to counsel and their fees, all again paid for according to length,* are accompaniments to the hearing. Then follows the decree, which now in every case under the new Orders costs 4l. 10s. and

* We believe that in an ordinary executor's suit the additional cost arising from every unnecessary folio, or ninety words, in the stating part is nearly 17. and in the interrogating part we suppose 7s. or 8s. and yet interrogatories, admitted to be unnecessary, and extending often to thirty folios, or even much more, continue in almost all cases to be inserted. The interrogatories are so much a matter of course, that they are always drawn by the barrister's clerks, and a clerk is more valuable who knows how to interrogate.'