Mill in his “Political Economy” quotes this illustration with approval. Is the conclusion arrived at correct?

Suppose that instead of a bill of exchange for £10, a horse worth £10 had been made use of, and the farmer had delivered the horse to the grocer in satisfaction of his debt, and the grocer had turned it over to the sugar-baker, and the sugar-baker to the West India merchant, etc. The horse would have paid the five debts in precisely the same manner that the bill of exchange did, but would such a use of the horse have made the horse, in the strictest sense of the term, a part of the circulating medium of the kingdom? I think not! A bill of exchange is not money, but an order for money, and would be valueless unless honored by payment on presentation. From the time the bill was drawn until finally paid an amount of money equal to the demand of the bill must be held out of circulation for its payment. It adds nothing to the circulation, and in no sense does it constitute a part of the circulating medium. It may, possibly, increase the rapidity of circulation, but it is difficult to see how it could do even this. The £10 held out of circulation for the payment of the bill would have paid the debts in the same manner that the bill of exchange did, and I fail to see why they would not have made the circuit as quickly. If a horse had been made use of in the settlement of the debts mentioned by Mr. Thornton, it would have been barter, pure and simple, and not a money transaction.

That the contraction of the volume of credit will not tend to depress prices in the same manner and to the same extent that a contraction of the volume of money would will be apparent from the following illustration.

The most conservative estimates place the national, municipal, corporate, and individual debts in the United States at $30,000,000,000. The Secretary of the Treasury estimates the amount of money in circulation at $1,600,000,000. There is not, in fact, one-third of the amount available for use; but for the purpose of this illustration we will take the Secretary’s estimate as correct. Now let us suppose that the volume of credit should be reduced to $28,400,000,000, either by the payment of $1,600,000,000 of the debt or by bankruptcy proceedings or in some other manner. If that amount of the credits were extinguished by payment, business would be stimulated. That sum of money, or at least a considerable portion of it, would pass into the hands of the creditor class, where it would seek investment, and the tendency would be, not to contract, but to expand prices. If that amount of the credits were extinguished by bankruptcy proceedings in which no money passed in either direction, such an extinguishment could not depress or expand prices; it could have no influence upon them.

Now suppose that $1,600,000,000 of the money, every dollar now claimed to be in circulation in the United States, should be withdrawn from the channels of trade, it would not be difficult to see that prices would fall; would, in fact, be completely annihilated. There would be no money with which to make purchases or to pay debts, civilization would go backwards, and universal bankruptcy and ruin would ensue. Suppose that only one-half or one-third of the money available for use should be withdrawn from circulation; even then business would be paralyzed, the money remaining would be hoarded or would be collected in the great money centres, prices would fall, and business men all over the country would be forced into bankruptcy. I think that it must be perfectly apparent that a contraction of credit does not act on the general level of prices in the same manner and to the same extent that a contraction of the volume of money does; that, in fact, it does not act on the general level of prices at all.

I, therefore, conclude that money, and money only, acts on the general level of prices, and that credit does not and cannot act on prices except only as it may increase the rapidity of the circulation of money; and even then it is the greater efficiency of the money, and not the credit, that stimulates prices. Credit may temporarily stimulate the price of the product of some particular industry, but to do this it must attract money from some other industry, and the stimulation will be at the expense of a corresponding depression in prices in the industry from which the money is attracted.

Los Angeles, Col.

POINTS IN THE AMERICAN AND FRENCH CONSTITUTIONS COMPARED.

Though France has her difficulties about raising sufficient money to carry on the administration, and an income tax is just as unpopular there as it would be here, nevertheless the chief cause of her trouble is to be traced, not to financial, but to constitutional sources. The country is very rich, and its ministers probably will always find some means of raising enough money to pay the cost of administration. Quite true, it is a sore point for a proud country which yearns for revenge upon Germany and longs for large colonial possessions, that its population does not increase, while the populations of its enemy, Germany, and of its well-wisher, the United States, go up by leaps and bounds. True, there are economic writers who regard the dearth and even the decrease of population in France as an advantage to the country. But these need not be considered in this inquiry, for it is quite obvious that any country which really aspires to be numbered with the great powers, and effectually wishes to own important colonial possessions, must have a stalwart and increasing people. And it is a real source of weakness that there should yet be in France so many Royalists constantly on the alert and hoping always for a change in the existing form of government.

Happily, on the contrary, no matter how widely the Western American may differ from his friend in the East, or how keenly the ex-Confederate may feel over the “lost cause,” the warm-blooded son of Kentucky will fight as bravely under the flag of the republic as will his frozen-featured brother from Minnesota, and the dreamy individual who gazes poetically upon the placid waters of Puget Sound will shout as loudly for one country, and one allegiance to its glorious emblem, as will the gilded youth whose republicanism is artistically refreshed by a constant vision of the Statue of Liberty triumphantly standing in New York harbor.

Royalism, conservatism, concentrationism, moderate republicanism, opportunism, radicalism, ultra-radicalism, socialism, and heaven knows how many other “isms” besides, exist in France to-day, and make it hard for any ministry to carry on the government. Numerous disintegrating influences are ever present, and political convictions are seldom sufficiently decided for any ministry to form a stable majority.

Though France has had the experience of two previous experiments in republican forms of government (the one set up in 1792, and the second established in 1848), they were such mere makeshifts and so very short-lived that they could not have taught the country very much of the real genius of republican institutions. The centralization and tyranny of centuries brought revolt and hatred of the past, but did not prepare the people for self-government; while here the principles of civil liberty, transplanted from the mother country and flourishing in congenial conditions under colonial administration, found apt and natural expression in the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution. The event of republican institutions twice tried in France failed to show that even the leaders understood the principles of liberty as they were understood by the fathers of the American system of government, and enthusiastically adopted by the people, as the crystallization, so to speak, in definite terms, of what they had long enjoyed. Short-sighted acts of tyranny, exercised by George III and his ministers, were regarded, and justly so, as mere accidents of the time and as innovations to be resisted and overcome. The outcome was the vindication of the principles of government founded by the countrymen of King Alfred the Great, their expansion, and the invaluable expression of those principles in the Declaration and the Constitution.

Some of the bravest and best under the French monarchy helped to establish the reign of popular liberty in the United States, and there can be no question but that the French Revolution was accomplished in part as a result of what had been seen and done on this side of the Atlantic on behalf of the civil rights of the people; but the founders of the first republic in France had no complete foundation on which to build a fabric firm and lasting. It was not easy for a venerable European nation, intrenched within its own regal institutions, in shaking off the past to begin a future of popular sovereignty. Much was gained by sweeping away the worst abuses of the past, but reaction came, succeeded, after a long lapse of time, by a second attempt to establish a republic, again to fail, until the collapse of the power of the adventurer whose election to the presidency was the beginning of the end of the republic of 1848, led to the third experiment, the permanent success of which we all hope for.

If—much virtue in an “if”—the leaders of the first French Republic had been thoroughly masters of and thoroughly imbued with the principles of American liberty, it is possible they might have so instructed and led a bright and capable people as to lay a sure foundation for the future. But even this modified statement is open to question. While it may be regretted that the American Constitution was not copied in the establishment of the successive French republics, it is by no means certain that this matchless paper would have been so far appreciated in its recognition of the great principles underlying it, as to insure success. Some of the South American republics have the American Constitution, more or less, but are not shining examples of republican success. No one can question that monarchies like the United Kingdom and Germany enjoy a larger diffusion of civil liberty than they.

Taking the French system, however, as it exists to-day, there can be no question that it would be vastly improved by copying the American model. It seems to have been founded with a view to the possibility of restoring the monarchy, and, this being so, the men who created it had no object in studying the American Constitution with a view to preventing those ministerial crises which threaten the destruction of the third republic. It will not do to attribute these crises to the unstable character of the fiery Frenchman, nor can the difficulty be disposed of by saying that a French minister will create a crisis for the sake of a pleasing bon mot or a sprightly paradox. A crisis supposes something outside of, or above, or beyond the ordinary, but French ministerial crises have become so common that they are the laughingstock of the nations, and may be said to be almost the normal condition of the legislative assemblies of France. So long as such critical situations can be thus easily brought about there cannot be that continuity of policy which is essential for carrying out great projects. The problem to be solved is a constitutional one,—a statement, I think, easily proved true.

Article Six of the constitution of 1875 reveals the real cause of ministerial crises in France: “The ministers are in a body responsible to the Chambers for the general policy of the government, and individually for their personal acts.” This article obviously leaves the respective powers of both houses very undefined. Which chamber is the superior? To which of them are the ministers in fact responsible? The ministers may have a majority in the Chamber of Deputies, and may be in a minority in the Senate. Then there is a crisis. The Senate blocks the way and will not allow the government to go on, for it claims that it is the superior body. This absence of the proper demarcation of the powers of the Senate, of the Chamber of Deputies, and of the ministers necessarily leads to conflict; conflict is but a step from instability, and instability is a crisis which threatens revolution.

The remedy for these oft-recurring ministerial crises in France is to be found in the American Constitution. The French Constitution should be revised and changed at the part quoted and all parts relating to it, so as to provide against ministerial crises; and the instrument presenting a sure guide in the performance of this necessary work is the American Constitution. It has been in operation over a hundred years and has been found to be an admirable working document, affording ministerial stability to its cabinets for over a century. Such a document is surely worthy of the closest study by the public men of the sister republic. It was inevitable that in so long a time some amendments should have become necessary; but for a long period it has undergone no change, save such as noted, and formulating the results of the civil war. Now and then are heard murmurings which claim the necessity of a sixteenth amendment, to the effect that the name of God should be put in the Constitution. The obvious answer to this is, that in the official life of the United States there is a more real acknowledgment of the Divine Being than there is in the official life of any other country, and it is better to have the name of God impressed upon the hearts of the people than upon even the best official document ever drawn up.

It would not be correct to say that no attempts have been made to bring about a ministerial crisis in the United States by encroachment upon the rights of the Executive. Only once, however, when Andrew Johnson was President, has the action of the Executive been seriously hampered. Professor Bryce’s remark may be applied to all other attempts. He writes: “Congress has constantly tried to encroach, both on the Executive and on the States,—sometimes like a wild bull driven into a corral, dashing itself against the imprisoning walls of the Constitution.” There is the secret. The “imprisoning walls” of the American Constitution keep contending powers in their proper places. The Constitution is so well drawn up that a deadlock is an impossibility, the equilibrium of concomitant powers is easily maintained, and the sovereign will of the people has a fair opportunity of finding a natural exponent.

In the United States the Senate and the House of Representatives are coördinate bodies; in the French Republic each claims superiority over the other. In the United States bills are never introduced by the Cabinet, all bills must originate either in the Senate or in the House of Representatives; such is not the case in the French Republic. In the United States the chief duty of the President is to see that the laws are faithfully executed; the Cabinet administers; its members are rather the aids or secretaries of the chief magistrate of the nation than otherwise. They are his advisers and helpers. During the four years for which the President of the United States is elected, the limitations of his authority are so remote and theoretical that, for practical purposes, it may be stated that he always serves out his full term of office. On the contrary, Presidential resignations are not unknown in the French Republic. France elects her President for seven years, yet Thiers, MacMahon, Grévy, Carnot, Casimir-Périer, and Faure make a list longer than that of the names of the men who have lived in the White House during the past quarter of a century. In the United States, the Cabinet lasts as long as the President’s term of office; in the French Republic, the Cabinet sometimes goes to pieces in four months. Briefly, it is quite clear that in the United States there can be no ministerial crises, since the President’s chief duty under the Constitution is to see that the laws are faithfully executed, and the members of his Cabinet do not introduce bills, even for finance or supplies, but act as his aids. As previously intimated, the difficulty with the French legislative bodies is that royalistic precedents and rules run side by side with republican principles, and the result is a mongrel institution divided, too often, against itself. When matters shall be so arranged that the French President will have to fill out his full term of office, and French ministers will not be permitted to originate legislation, and cabinets shall be selected to serve as long as the Presidential term, then the French Republic will enjoy the same ministerial stability as that of the United States.

It were hard to say that the French method of electing a president is any better or any worse than that of the United States. The President of the French Republic is elected by the majority of the votes of both Chambers. This plan does not seem to remove him further from the people than does the system of electing a president by electors, as in the United States. As human ingenuity has not yet succeeded in creating the ideal republic, wherein, according to Ouida, there would be no president, some system of election must be followed. The question is not a burning one. There is notable, however, a growing tendency in France in favor of electing the president directly by the votes of the people. The seven-years’ period for which the French president is elected is considered by many to be an excellent provision; but it loses half its excellence by reason of the fact that the president has the power to initiate laws, this and other things concurring to make his resignation a possibility, and not a remote one.

That the office of vice-president does not exist in France seems to be of no great consequence. In the history of the American Republic there have been five vice-presidents who have been called upon to step into the Presidential chair by the deaths of presidents. According to the French Constitution, in case of a Presidential vacancy, whether from death or any other cause, the two Chambers proceed immediately to the election of a president. In the interval the ministers are invested with executive power.

What I have written regarding the growing tendency to think it would be better to elect the president directly by the votes of the people, applies with a little more force to the election of senators. In France the municipalities elect the senators, as do State legislatures in this country. It is held by some who have discussed the question that it is much more in conformity with the genius of republican institutions that the people express their will directly by ballot rather than through the votes of municipal councils, as in France, or of legislatures, as in the United States. I cannot see that the difference of terms, that of French senators being nine years, and of American six, is of practical consequence. While both republics are at one as to the necessity of a second chamber, providing thus a check to hasty and unconsidered legislation, many thinkers in both countries agree that some change is necessary to make it possible for others than millionaires to be elected senators.

If I were a Frenchman and had the power, I should get every newspaper throughout the land, and every public man and influential citizen, to enter upon a crusade for the purpose of impressing upon the minds of the whole people the following extract from the Constitution of the United States:

In France, there are constantly continuous and unseemly clashes between church and state. No matter what complications may exist as results of the past, surely it would be better for all concerned to leave the churches to be sustained by the voluntary contributions of the people. In the United States churches seem to live and thrive under this system of noninterference by the state in religious matters, and voluntary support. The more than eighty thousand clergymen are provided for. In the French Republic one reads everywhere, on the walls of churches and of schools, the words “Liberté, fraternité, égalité,” while there seems to be a serious disagreement between Clericals, on the one side, and Radicals, on the other, as to the meaning of these words. To effectually put an end to this strife, the adoption of the clause I have quoted would be sufficient.

In writing thus freely of the French Republic I am free, I trust, from the spirit of the carping critic delighting in comparisons to the advantage of his own country. I appreciate the splendid literature, the brilliant art, the advanced civilization of the France of to-day. I recognize with gratitude the debt which the United States owes the gallant Gallic people for sympathy and material aid in her struggle for independence. It is now only necessary to be in France on the Fourth of July to realize the reality and depth of the friendship which exists between the sister republics. But I do think that until France shall copy more closely the Constitution of the United States, the stability of the third republic cannot be regarded as assured.

HONEST MONEY; OR, A TRUE STANDARD OF VALUE:
A SYMPOSIUM.

Jevons, one of the most generally accepted of the writers in favor of a gold standard, admits the instability of a single standard, and in language very similar to that above quoted suggests the multiple standard as the most equitable, if practicable. Chevalier, who wrote a book in 1858 to show the injustice of allowing a debtor to pay his debts in a cheap gold dollar, recognized the same fact, and said:

I am on sound and scientific ground, therefore, when I say that a dollar approaches honesty as its purchasing power approaches stability. If I borrow a thousand dollars to-day and next year pay the debt with a thousand dollars which will secure exactly as much of all things desirable as the one thousand which I borrowed, I have paid in honest dollars. If the money has increased or decreased in purchasing power, I have satisfied my debt with dishonest dollars. While the government can say that a given weight of gold or silver shall constitute a dollar, and invest that dollar with legal-tender qualities, it cannot fix the purchasing power of the dollar. That must depend upon the law of supply and demand, and it may be well to suggest that this government never tried to fix the exchangeable value of a dollar until it began to limit the number of dollars coined.

On the other hand, if the money supply is abundant, sufficient to meet all demands upon it,—in other words, if there is a bountiful money crop,—it will be cheaper; it will not have such a large purchasing power; it will be worth less when measured by our labor, our lands, and the products of our labor.

I oppose the single gold standard because it makes the money crop short, gives us a small circulating medium, and hence enhances the value or price of money.

We have a certain demand for breadstuff, which is constantly increasing as our population multiplies; suppose that we cease producing corn, and find no substitute for it, would not the price of wheat be greatly enhanced, providing there is no increased wheat production? So with the money supply. There is a certain demand for money, ever increasing as population grows. How shall we meet it? By producing more money, or by destroying one-half of that which we now have, by eliminating one-half of the base of future supplies of money?

The latter is now the policy of this government, and as a consequence the price of gold has been greatly enhanced, and its purchasing power has increased each year, and will continue to do so.

The advocates of the gold standard call this “honest money.” Their idea of honest money is money that ever increases in purchasing power because of its ever-increasing scarcity.

My definition of honest money is: “A sufficiently large circulating medium, whether of gold, silver, or paper, to bring down the price of money so that we shall obtain fair prices for all labor and products.” Then as population increases and as the demand for money becomes greater, let the government meet that demand from time to time by enhancing the money supply.

The true test of an honest dollar is its purchasing power, and that dollar, and only that dollar, is honest that does exact justice between creditor and debtor. The gold monometallists harp on the injustice of a depreciating dollar, but they ignore the injuries inflicted by an appreciating dollar. They tell us that a depreciating dollar defrauds the creditor, but just as a depreciating dollar defrauds the creditor, an appreciating dollar defrauds the debtor, and it is not one whit worse to defraud the creditor by obliging him to accept a depreciated dollar from his debtor than to defraud the debtor by obliging him to pay in a dollar made artificially scarce and dear.

An appreciating dollar works injustice to the debtor just as a depreciating dollar works injustice to the creditor, but an appreciating dollar is many fold more injurious to trade and industry, for while the depreciating dollar taxes the creditor for the benefit of the debtor, the appreciating dollar takes from the debtor, from producers in general and the industrious classes, and gives to the creditor classes, the drones of society, a larger and larger share of the products of labor, which of necessity discourages industry. Under a depreciating standard the recompense of the producer becomes greater and greater, the creditor classes receive a smaller and smaller portion of the products of labor, the profits of industry increase, and consequently production is encouraged and trade and industry are stimulated. But under an appreciating standard the recompense of labor becomes smaller and smaller, and the share of the products of labor absorbed by the creditor larger, which tends to discourage industry and stifle enterprise.

It is evident then that a true standard of value can only be found in a composite unit containing a definite quantity of every commodity, or practically speaking, a definite quantity of each of a large number of the most important commodities. This is what is known as the “multiple standard,” or the “commodity standard,” and has long been in use by economists in the form of tables of index numbers to show fluctuations in general prices, or what is the same thing, changes in money values.

The only function of money is to facilitate the exchange of goods. In doing this it acts directly as a circulating medium, and the demand for it for this purpose, relative to the supply, determines its value; for money, whether of coin or paper or both combined in one circulation to meet one need, is subject to the same law of supply and demand which governs all commodities, and which indeed is as universal in the economic world as the law of gravitation is in the physical world.

Incidentally the value of money fills the important function of serving as a measure of the values of goods transferred without the direct use of money, both immediate and deferred. This, however, has no effect on the demand for money or on its value.

The people are accustomed to regard money as of constant value, and an honest money must necessarily conform to this belief. If money varies in value, the people are deluded, and many are wronged if they are unaware of the fluctuation. If they become aware of it,—as they generally do by a bitter experience,—they are confronted with an uncertainty that is most detrimental to any business or enterprise. Imagine what our business would be with our measures of weight, length, and capacity all variable! Yet such a condition would be less disastrous than a fluctuating money value when it became fully known that it was so.

The demand for money varies from many causes, chief among which are changes in the quantity of goods exchanged, the extent to which other credit instruments take the place of money in such exchanges, and the activity of money, or the extent to which it is hoarded, all of which are entirely beyond control. The supply of money, however, can be controlled, and to maintain money at a constant value the supply must be constantly adjusted to the ever-varying demand, so that its general purchasing power may remain the same. The test of a constant money must be a constant general level of prices; and this must be judged by the prices in the open market of those principal commodities which would be selected to constitute the standard of value, the quantity of each being proportioned to its importance in trade.

The only function of gold and silver in a monetary system is to limit the volume of the money, either by their scarcity when freely coined, or by the laws limiting their coinage. And as this limitation of the supply bears no definite relation to the demand for money, the value of the money necessarily fluctuates. Our industrial system is constantly growing more sensitive to even slight changes in money value, owing to the greater diversification of industries and the greater division of labor, and the need for preventing such changes is constantly growing more imperative.

When the people arrive at a clearer perception of these facts and principles they will understand that the chance production of gold and silver is too clumsy a contrivance to properly control so delicate a matter as the value of money under modern industrial conditions, and I believe they will substitute for the present system a circulating medium of paper money, properly guaranteed, and susceptible of prompt and certain increase or decrease of volume to meet every possible variation in demand, and rigidly controlled to conform in value to a true standard of value, a standard composed not alone of gold or silver or both combined, but of all the leading commodities.

In short, they will separate the standard of value from the medium of exchange, demonetizing both gold and silver as to the latter function, but using both and many other things in conjunction therewith for the former function.

From whatever side the question is approached, in the last analysis the value of money of any kind is found to depend upon its quantity, and not upon color, or ductility, or malleability, or any other particular quality of the thing upon which the money function is impressed. There can be therefore, in fact, no other standard of value, or money standard, except the quantity of whatever is used as money. When gold and silver are used, the value of each unit of money depends upon the number of such units, and these in turn depend upon the quantity of the metal from which the money is made. Any cause, therefore, which restricts, limits, or contracts the quantity of any kind of money, increases the value of each unit. On the contrary, causes that operate to increase the supply of money have the opposite effect.

Hence, only that currency can properly be called “sound” currency which is made to maintain stable relations to things to be bought and sold. In other words, general prices are determined by the proportion between money on the one side, and things offered against money on the other side. Such money only is “honest” money.

The whole question, therefore, of money standard is a question of money supply; for, as the price of single things, money being constant, depends upon supply on the one hand, as against demand for it on the other, so, in general, prices depend on money supply on the one hand, and things to be bought and sold on the other. This I believe to be the fundamental law of money.

THE NEW CIVIL CODE OF JAPAN.

There were three such systems—the Anglo-American, the French, and the Germanic Roman—each offering itself for adoption. Mr. Yeto Shimpei,[2] who became the Minister of Justice in 1872, seems to have had a personal preference for the French system. He called to his assistance some of the most eminent jurists of France and entered upon the work of drafting a code. At the same time he established in Tokio a law school known as the “Department of Justice Annex Law School,” in which French law was taught by those same jurists whom he had called from France. About this time there was also established in the University of Tokio a law school in which instruction was given chiefly in English law. It was while teaching in this university law school that Mr. Henry T. Terry (a New York lawyer and an alumnus of Yale College) wrote his memorable book on English law, designed especially for the use of Japanese law students. From henceforth “Terry’s Leading Principles of Anglo-American Law” became as familiar to them as are “Blackstone’s Commentaries” to the law students of this country.

Thus, side by side there existed in Tokio two law schools in which two distinct systems of law were taught—the English and the French. The primary object of the Department of Justice in establishing the French law school being to make it a training school of judicial officers, the students of that school were, upon graduation, to render, for a limited number of years, an obligatory service to the government in the various capacities of judges, magistrates, and prosecuting attorneys. On the other hand, the University of Tokio being a strictly independent institution in which learning is pursued for the sake of learning, the graduates of the university or English law school were at entire liberty in their choice of professions. Naturally enough the majority of these did not wish to enter the same service which the graduates of the other school were obliged to enter as a matter of fulfilment of contract. Thus it happened that the bench was recruited from the French law school, while the bar was recruited from the English law school. This state of affairs lasted for about twenty years, during which time there was also established a German law school in the University of Tokio. Those who know something about the rivalry that existed in ancient times between the Sabinians and the Proculians, or even about the rivalry which exists to-day between the Yale method and the Harvard method, between the Waylandians and the Langdellians, can readily imagine what intellectual competition was carried on between these three Japanese law schools representing three distinct systems of law.

After twenty years of assiduous labor the Code Commission submitted a draft of a Civil Code to the two Houses of Parliament in 1890, accompanied by the recommendation from the Bureau of Legislation that the draft might receive the parliamentary sanction in such a manner that it might be possible for it to be put in effect by the year 1893. As might have been expected from the personnel of the Commission, consisting, in its conception, of Mr. Yeto Shimpei and the eminent French jurist Prof. Boissonade, etc., the draft was a genuine French code, being almost a literal translation of the Code Napoleon in all its parts excepting the part dealing with the Law of Persons. The question may well be asked why it took the Commission twenty long years to produce this imitation draft code when we know that the draft of the Code Napoleon itself was completed within the short period of four months. The answer seems to be that the Commission spent almost this entire time in their efforts to reconcile the principles of the French Law of Persons with the Japanese laws and customs bearing on that subject.

As has been the case with many other draft codes this draft Civil Code of Japan was destined to go into oblivion. As soon as it was submitted to the Parliament there ensued a most desperate fight against its adoption. As figuring most prominently among the champions of the opposition I may mention the names of Mr. Kazuo Hatoyama, the present Speaker of the House of Commons of the Imperial Japanese Parliament, and His Excellency Mr. Toru Hoshi, the present Japanese minister at Washington.[3] Inspired by these and other eminent jurists of the English school the entire bar was set against the adoption of the draft code. This was not a case of a bar accustomed to one set of rules and formulas opposing the adoption of a new code for fear that they might be compelled to learn a new set of rules and formulas. On the contrary, the bar was composed of men who had studied law as a science, and science for the sake of science. The spirit of their opposition was very plainly shown by the objections they raised against the code. They said:—“The draft Code was a blind imitation of a foreign Code which itself was far from being free from defects. It abounded in definitions, illustrations, and examples, and presented an appearance more becoming to a text-book of law than the Civil Code of a great nation. It went into too minute details and left too little room for voluntary development of jurisprudence. It incorporated, like the French Code, the law of evidence into the body of the Civil Code, which was totally at variance with the modern theory of evidence, being a failure on the part of the Commissioners to distinguish adjective from substantive law. It made too many innovations upon the Law of Persons hitherto obtaining in Japan. It changed the Family Law of the Japanese from the foundation, which was a gross disregard of the historical principle of jurisprudence,” etc., etc., etc. Such were some of the grounds upon which they opposed the adoption of the draft code, reminding one of the fight in Europe between the historical school and the analytical school, between the jurists of France and those of Germany; of the fight in Germany between the Code party and the anti-Code party, between Savigny and Thibaut. Who can say, then, that the Japanese are childish imitators of anything that looks well? The fact is that this sort of conflict between the more conservative and the more radical, the more scrupulous and the more unscrupulous, the more positive and the more speculative, is going on all the time.

At last in 1892 the Parliament passed an act deferring the taking effect of the code till 1897 and ordering in the meantime a careful revisal of the draft. A new Commission was appointed which consisted of three most eminent professors of law in Japan, each representing one of the three systems of law recognized there.[4] These Commissioners, aided by a number of efficient assistants, looked into the codes and laws of some fifteen leading American and European states. As representing the French system they consulted the codes of Louisiana, Belgium, France, Holland, Italy, Portugal, and Spain. As representing the German system they consulted the codes and laws of Austria, Montenegro, Prussia, Saxony, Switzerland, and the draft Civil Code of the German Empire. As representing the English system they consulted the leading American and English reports and treatises, the draft Civil Code of New York, and the codes of California and British India.[5]

After four years of the most constant application the Commission submitted in 1896 a revisal of a part of the original draft. Had the Commission had the entire code revised they could not have shown greater wisdom. For the parts incomplete were those dealing with the Family Law and Successions, and the Commission remembered that these were the parts that occasioned the most vital objections to the old code. The Parliament referred the revised draft code to a Committee of their own, of which Mr. Hatoyama, the present Speaker, was made the chairman. After making a careful examination and some important modifications, Mr. Hatoyama reported favorably to its adoption. The Parliament acted according to his advice, and the draft became the law.

In its general arrangement the new code follows what the German jurists call the Pandekten system. It is divided into five general parts. Part I is called “Sōsoku,” or General Laws, and deals with persons, natural and artificial, as the subjects of rights; with things as the objects of rights; and with juristic acts as setting rights in motion. One cannot help being astonished at and gratified with the remarkable extent to which Prof. Holland’s views as expressed in his book on jurisprudence seem to be adopted in this part of the code.[6] Part II is called “Bukken,” or Jus in Rem, corresponding to the Sachenrecht of the German code, and dealing with Possession, Ownership, etc., etc. Part III is called “Jinken,” or Jus in Personam, corresponding to the Forderungsrecht of the German code, and dealing with General Law of Obligations, with Obligations arising ex contractu, quasi ex contractu, and ex delicto. The General Law of Obligations is taken largely from the Forderungsrecht of the Swiss code. The law of Contracts and Torts is taken entirely from the English law. Parts IV and V, dealing with the Family Law and the Law of Successions respectively, have not as yet been published, for reasons already indicated.

Such is the new Civil Code of Japan, adopted by the Imperial Parliament in its session of 1896. Truly, the year 1896 has been an eventful year for Japan. The war with China had brought glory to her arms. Formosa and numerous other islands had been added to her possessions. The insurgents of Formosa had been pacified. The treaties with the leading nations of the world had been revised, providing for the abolishment of the disgraceful extra-territoriality régime in Japan, to take effect, however, upon the taking effect of the new Civil Code. The last and greatest event of all, the new Code was adopted. With equal propriety, then, the Emperor Mutsuhito might have joined Justinian, in proclaiming:—“Imperatoriam Majestatem non solum armis decoratam, sed etiam legibus opportet esse armatam, ut utrumque tempus et bellorum et pacis recte possit gubernari!”

JOHN RUSKIN:
A Type of Twentieth-Century Manhood.

Few if any of his admirers will agree with all his critical views. He not infrequently falls into those errors which we naturally expect to find in a man of intense feeling, of strong conviction, and of vivid imagination. If a positive idea takes possession of his mind, it is liable to give a strong bias to his thought, and in a degree interferes with that nice sense of proportion so essential to a great critic. On more than one occasion Mr. Ruskin has frankly admitted that his views and opinions were erroneous owing to being based on a partial appearance or influenced by pernicious ideas. A notable illustration of his thought being biassed by preconceived ideas is found in the religious opinions put forward in the early edition of parts I and II of “Modern Painters.” And in a preface written in 1871 for a revised edition of his works, the philosopher calls attention to his early views, declaring that he was “wholly mistaken” and continuing: “I had been educated in the narrow doctrine of a narrow sect, and had read history obliquely, as a sectarian necessarily must.”

Such are the blemishes which occasionally creep into the works of this master mind. They are, however, merely spots on the sun, which do not appear frequently enough to seriously dim the splendor of a critical work which in my judgment surpasses in real value that of any English scholar of the century. “Modern Painters,” “The Stones of Venice,” “The Seven Lamps,” and his other works dealing with art are far more than criticisms; they touch the sleeping soul, they fire the spirit and awaken the conscience. They make the reader feel a new love for nature and art alike, and with this pure and inspiring love comes the desire for more knowledge. They appeal to the spiritual aspirations even more than to the artistic impulses or the intellectual apprehension. The moral exaltation which pervades his writings springs from his profoundly philosophical and religious nature. In all his work, as in his noble life, he has ever been moved by an intense desire to uplift and dignify humanity and to impress upon the public mind the subtle but positive effect for good exerted by true art. “I have had,” he tells us in “The Two Paths,” “but one steady aim in all I have ever tried to teach, namely, to declare that whatever was great in human art was the expression of man’s delight in God’s work.”

With Ruskin, life is august; its possibilities for good and evil are never forgotten.