The number of sworn judges varies in different tribes of the Teutonic family, but as twelve has long been a sacred number with the Anglo-Saxons, that was gradually fixed for the Jury. Twelve consenting voices are indispensable for the indictment or the condemnation.


Such is the form of the Jury as we find it at this day. The other officers have also undergone a change. So, Gentlemen, let me give you a brief sketch of the Historical Formation of the Function of the Judge in nations of the same ethnological origin. Here I shall mention four steps.

1. At the meetings of the people to make, apply, and execute the law, some one must preside to keep order, put the question, and declare the vote. He was the Moderator of the meeting. At first it would seem that some important man, a priest, or a noble, or some other wise, distinguished, or popular man, performed that function. The business over, he dropped into his private place again. A new one was chosen at each meeting.

2. If the former moderator had shown skill and aptness, he was chosen the next time; again and again; at length it was a matter of course that he should preside. He studied the matter, and became "expert in all the manners and customs of his nation." This happens in most of the New England towns, where the same man is Moderator at the town-meetings for many years in succession. Men love to walk in the path they have once trodden, even if not the shortest way to their end.

3. When the nation is organized more artificially and the laws chiefly proceed from the secondary source, the government,—elective or usurpatory—a judge is appointed by the central authority to visit the districts (counties) and assist at the administration of justice. As the law is now made by the distant delegates, the judge they send down declares and explains it to the people, for they have not made it as before directly, nor found it ready-made, an old inherited custom, but only receive it as the authorities send it down from the Capitol. The law is written—the officer can read while they have no copy of the law, or could not read it had they the book. Hence the necessity of a judge learned in the law. Still the people are to apply the written law or apply it not.

Besides, the old customs remain, the unwritten laws of the people, which the judge does not understand so well as they. He represents the written law, the assembly the unwritten custom or tradition. The judge is appointed that he may please the central power; the people are only to satisfy such moral convictions as they have. There is often a conflict between the statute and the custom, a conflict of laws; and still more between the judge and the jury—a conflict in respect to the application of the law.

4. Then comes the critical period of the Trial by Jury. For the deputed judge seeks to enlarge his jurisdiction, to enforce his law, often against the customs and the consciences of the People, the jury, who only seek to enlarge Justice. He looks technically at the statute, the provisional Means of law, not at Justice the ultimate Purpose of law. To the "Country," the "Body of the People," or to the jury of inquest and of trial, he assumes not to suggest the law and its application, but absolutely to dictate it to them. He claims the exclusive right to decide on the Law and its Application; the jury is only to determine the Fact—whether the accused did the deed charged or not.

If the judge succeeds in this battle, then tyranny advances step by step; the jury is weakened; its original function is curtailed; certain classes of cases are taken from its jurisdiction; it becomes only the tool of the government, and finally is thrown aside. Popular law-making is gone; popular law-applying is also gone; local self-government disappears and one homogeneous centralized tyranny takes the place of the manifold Freedom of the people. So the trial by jury faded out of all the South-Teutonic people, and even from many regions of the German and Scandinavian North. But the Anglo-Saxon, mixing his blood with Danes and Normans, his fierce kinsfolk of the same family, has kept and improved this ancient institution. When King or Parliament made wicked laws, or appointed corrupt and cruel men for judges, the People have held this old ancestral shield between the tyrant and his victim. Often cloven through or thrust aside, the Saxon Briton never abandons this. The Puritan swam the Atlantic with this on his arm—and now all the Anglo-Saxon tribe reverences this defence as the Romans their twelve [aoncilia], the mythic shield which "fell from Heaven."[113]