This principle of graduated taxation has, however, been nearly universal in our next and more modern variety—the succession tax. The old English precedents are the "aids" and fines for alienation. But beginning here about 1893, this form of taxation has now been adopted by nearly all the States, the amount of the tax being graded both according to the relation of the inheritors to the person from whom the succession is derived, and according to the amount of the inheritance itself; the rate of the tax thus varying all the way from an absolute exemption, as to the wife or children, to a tax as high as twenty-five per cent. (in New York) in the case of large estates going to remote relatives. The Federal inheritance tax imposed at the time of the Spanish war was soon repealed, and this domain of taxation, with the income tax, is now almost universally employed by the States. The principle itself can hardly be carried much farther, but it will be necessary to have some understanding or arrangement between the States, whereby double or treble succession taxes are not imposed on the same estate, as notably in the case of the stock or bonds of railroads chartered in several States, all of which may undertake to impose full succession taxes upon such stock. It has been held that succession taxes may be graded even in cases where a State constitution provides for proportionate taxation, the tax being an excise tax and not a direct property tax; but this is not so in respect to income taxes. We may assume therefore that income taxes must be equal in States which have this constitutional provision, although in one or two of them recent statutes have exempted a portion of the income of veterans of the Civil War. This might be sustained as a pension, pensions being for actual military service constitutional, and are in the Southern States expressly permitted to Confederate soldiers and their families—despite the implied prohibition of the Fourteenth Amendment.
The last form of taxation, that of an excise upon licenses or trades, is most usual in the South. An increasing number of trades are thus being taxed or regulated. Sometimes the taxation is put under the guise of a fee for examination and licensing, sometimes plainly as an excise tax. Undoubtedly such taxation is against all the history of our legislation demanding complete freedom of labor and trade. Nevertheless, it has not been held unconstitutional by the States except, of course, when touching a trade which is interstate commerce, though the examination occasionally has been. Such taxation has not yet become popular in the North, except definitely for the purpose of examination and license; but it is almost universal in the South, many States indeed providing by their constitution or laws that all trades and callings may be thus taxed. These taxes may be arbitrary in amount, but are sometimes graded according to the amount of business done. Such legislation has been sustained in so far as it is a tax or a license imposed for protecting the public health in a reasonable manner; thus, doctors, plumbers, nurses, dentists, etc., have been submitted to such regulation, but in the case of blacksmiths its constitutionality was in one State denied, and the law as to barbers in several States annulled. Nevertheless, it will always be a popular method of raising money in the poorer States, where land already bears its full burden and little personal property can be found.
Commissions of inquiry on this whole subject of taxation are continually being appointed—we have had two in Massachusetts in the past ten years—and their recommendations nearly always prove unacceptable. The probable scientific answer, that you must only tax property and not money or the evidence of property, and that if direct taxation thereby becomes too burdensome we must reduce our rate of expenditure, is a conclusion our legislators are yet unwilling to accept. The taxation of corporations presents a different problem and we shall therefore leave it for special consideration with that subject. The matter of betterment taxes may be dismissed with a word, as it is hardly, in theory, taxation at all, but rather using municipal agencies to collect the cost, or part of the cost, of a local work or benefit. It is, of course, closely connected with the subject of eminent domain. That is to say, only a public use, or at least a general local benefit, can justify a betterment tax. There is still considerable legislation on this matter, confined generally to the objects of securing a jury trial, or at least a public hearing, on the amount of the assessment, defining the purposes for which it may be imposed, as, for instance, paving, sewers, water-works where public, and—perhaps the most contested case of all—that of parks or pleasure-grounds; and providing that the amount of betterment taxes imposed shall not exceed one-half the value of the improvement of the property, and shall never exceed the amount paid as damages when part of the owner's land is taken.
By far the greatest mass of legislation relating to property is concerned with the police power and modern extensions thereof. It is also by far the most dangerous to property rights, and this for several reasons: firstly, it involves the destruction of property without any compensation whatever, not upon payment of damages, as in the ease of eminent domain; secondly, on account of the extraordinary extension by our modern legislation of this power to matters not hitherto deemed necessary for the safety, health, or even the well-being of the public, vague as the legal application of the last word is; thirdly, and perhaps most important, because the police power is usually exercised without any common-law guarantees, without process of law or jury trial, but by the arbitrary ruling of some board, or even single commissioner, and often, so far as the statute is concerned, without a jury or even an appeal from the commissioner's ruling to any court of law.
I believe this to be the most dangerous tendency that now confronts the American people—government by commission, tenfold more dangerous than "government by injunction." Not only is there no liberty, no appeal to common right and the courts, but all permanent "boards" tend to become narrow and pedantic or, worse, to be controlled by the works they are created to control.[1] The constitutionality of such boards is, of course, always questionable, but the tendency to create them is perhaps the most striking thing in modern American legislation. Not only do we find them in enormously increased numbers in all the States, but even a late President of the United States seriously recommended that the contracts and affairs of all corporations at least (and the bulk of modern business is done in corporate form) should be so submitted to the control or dictation, or even the nullification, of such an administrative board or commission, and this again with no appeal to the courts. So audacious an upsetting of all Anglo-Saxon ideas of the right to law, it may be said without exaggeration, has never been attempted in the history of the English people, not even by the Stuart kings, who were most of all disposed to interfere in such particulars. Wiser counsels deterred the administration from insisting on this measure, but the fact that it could be brought up, and that with the approval of a large portion of the public, indicates how radical our legislation is getting to be in this particular.
[Footnote 1: Two singular instances happened only the past year: at common law any one may build railroads, and they are certainly for the general advantage whether profitable to the owners or not. Yet the railroad commissions of New York and Massachusetts have recently in each State prevented the building of most important lines, by responsible applicants—under the opposition of other railroads.]
It is a commonplace in the law that no court has defined, or ever will consent to define, the exact limits of this police power; suffice it to say that in the classic words of Chief Justice Shaw of Massachusetts, "it is all that makes for the health, safety, or comfort of the people." As to the health and safety, there can be little question; but when it comes to indefinite words like "comfort" or "well-being," too wide a field is left for the imagination. It has recently been decided that the aesthetic part of life does not necessarily concern the comfort or well-being of the people. That is to say, laws forbidding the use of land for the erection of hideous signs, or forbidding the height of buildings at an inartistic excess have been declared not to fall within the police power, but under eminent domain. So of statutes forbidding the taking of a man's picture, or a woman's portrait for advertising purposes, when not properly obtained; yet it may be questioned if any law is more certainly for the comfort of the persons concerned than such a statute. On the other hand, noisy or noxious trades, mosquito ponds, trees infected with moths, etc., sawdust in water, offensive smoke, and, in Vermont, signs, were all made nuisances by statute of one State or other in 1905 alone. The first historical instance, perhaps, of destruction of property under the police power was the blowing up of buildings to check a conflagration, a practice still common, although its utility was much questioned after the Boston fire, and which, at common law at least, gave the owner no right to compensation; but the more usual use of the police power until very recent years has been limited to the prohibition of offensive trades in certain localities, and the suppression of public nuisances. Later, the prohibition of the manufacture of intoxicating or malt liquors, and the regulation of tenement houses at the orders of the Board of Health. This led to the regulation or prohibition of certain trades conducted in tenement houses or in sweat shops, and to other matters which we shall find it more convenient to consider under the head of labor legislation.
Whether there are any limits to this power is much discussed. There is no question that the power must not be arbitrary or utterly without reason, and of that reason the courts must and do in fact judge. Taking property for a purpose unjustified by the police power is, of course, taking property without due process of law. An arbitrary statute taking the property of A and giving it to B, or even to the public, without compensation has, from the time of Lord Coke himself, been the classic definition of an unjustifiable law and one which with us at least is unconstitutional; but our courts wisely refuse to judge if, when a proper police motive is disclosed in the statute, it is the best method of effecting the result. This, I think, is a clear statement of the principle of our court decisions. If, upon the face of the statute, the court can see no possible relation to the public health or safety, or, possibly, general welfare, it will hold the law null in so far as it invades either property or liberty rights because not under the police power. If, on the other hand, they can see some relation to the public health, safety, or general welfare, even though they do not think it the best method of bringing about the desired result, they will not presume to run counter to legislative opinion. Of the expediency of the statute, the legislature must be and is the final judge.
With us the police power is exercised largely for moral reasons. That is to say, the great instances of its extension have been connected with moral or sanitary reform. No doubt the police power may broaden with advancing civilization and more complex appliances and possibly greater medical knowledge and social solidarity. No doubt purposes which were once lawful may be unlawful, and property devoted to them thus be destroyed by a change in the law. Mr. Justice Brewer, of our Supreme Court, holding the contrary view, was overruled by the majority, and that decision is final.[1] Not only we, but a State, may not even make a contract which shall be immune from future extension of the police power, the Dartmouth College case notwithstanding. For instance, the State of Massachusetts in 1827 granted a perpetual franchise to a corporation to make beer. It was allowed, forty years later, to pass a law that no corporation should make beer, and the brewery became valueless. The State of Minnesota granted a perpetual franchise to a railroad to fix its own fares. Twenty years later it took away that right, thereby, as claimed, making the railroad property valueless; the railroad had no remedy. A man in Connecticut had barrels of whiskey in a cellar for many years, but the State was allowed to pass a law prohibiting its sale; which, of course, had he been a teetotaler, would have deprived that property of all value, and in any case, of all exchange value. A man in Iowa owns one glass of whiskey for several years, and then a law is passed forbidding him to sell it; the law is valid. A youth in Nebraska buys tobacco and paper and rolls a cigarette. The State afterward passes a law forbidding smoking by minors. It is a crime if he light it. Sufficient has, perhaps, been said to show the extraordinary scope and elasticity of this, the widest, vaguest, and most dangerous domain of our modern legislation, though perhaps we should add one or two striking cases affecting personal liberty, as, for instance, a citizen of Pennsylvania marries his first cousin in Delaware and returns to Pennsylvania, where the marriage is void and he becomes guilty of a criminal offence; a white man in Massachusetts who marries a negress or mulatto may be guilty of the crime of miscegenation in other States; a woman might work fifty-eight hours a week in Rhode Island, but if she work over fifty-six in Massachusetts may involve her employer, as well as herself, in a penal offence.
[Footnote 1: Mugler v. Kansas, 123 U. S, 623.]