trial-by-jury-book/edited/01.markdown

# THE RIGHT OF JURIES TO JUDGE OF THE JUSTICE OF LAWS


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For more than six hundred years—that is, since Magna Carta, in
1215—there has been no clearer principle of English or American
constitutional law, than that, in criminal cases, it is not only the
right and duty of juries to judge what are the facts, what is the law,
and what was the moral intent of the accused; _but that it is also their
right, and their primary and paramount duty, to judge of the justice of
the law, and to hold all laws invalid, that are, in their opinion,
unjust or oppressive, and all persons guiltless in violating, or
resisting the execution of, such laws_.

Unless such be the right and duty of jurors, it is plain that, instead
of juries being a “palladium of liberty”—a barrier against the tyranny
and oppression of the government—they are really mere tools in its
hands, for carrying into execution any injustice and oppression it may
desire to have executed.

But for their right to judge of the law, _and the justice of the law_,
juries would be no protection to an accused person, _even as to matters
of fact_; for, if the government can dictate to a jury any law whatever,
in a criminal case, it can certainly dictate to them the laws of
evidence. That is, it can dictate what evidence is admissible, and what
inadmissible, _and also what force or weight is to be given to the
evidence admitted_. And if the government can thus dictate to a jury the
laws of evidence, it can not only make it necessary for them to convict
on a partial exhibition of the evidence rightfully pertaining to the
case, but it can even require them to convict on any evidence whatever
that it pleases to offer them.

That the rights and duties of jurors must necessarily be such as are
here claimed for them, will be evident when it is considered what the
trial by jury is, and what is its object.

_“The trial by jury,” then, is a “trial by the country”—that is, by the
people—as distinguished from a trial by the government._

It was anciently called “trial _per pais_”—that is, “trial by the
country.” And now, in every criminal trial, the jury are told that the
accused “has, for trial, put himself upon the _country_; which _country_
you (the jury) are.”

_The object of this trial “by the country” or by the people, in
preference to a trial by the government, is to guard against every
species of oppression by the government. In order to effect this end, it
is indispensable that the people, or “the country,” judge of and
determine their own liberties against the government; instead of the
government’s judging of and determining its own powers over the people.
How is it possible that juries can do anything to protect the liberties
of the people against the government, if they are not allowed to
determine what those liberties are?_

Any government, that is its own judge of, and determines authoritatively
for the people, what are its own powers over the people, is an absolute
government of course. It has all the powers that it chooses to exercise.
There is no other—or at least no more accurate—definition of a
despotism than this.

On the other hand, any people, that judge of, and determine
authoritatively for the government, what are their own liberties against
the government, of course retain all the liberties they wish to enjoy.
_And this is freedom._ At least, it is freedom _to them_; because,
although it may be theoretically imperfect, it, nevertheless,
corresponds to _their_ highest notions of freedom.

To secure this right of the people to judge of their own liberties
against the government, the jurors are taken, (or must be, to make them
lawful jurors,) from the body of the people, _by lot_, or by some
process that precludes any previous knowledge, choice, or selection of
them, on the part of the government. This is done to prevent the
government’s constituting a jury of its own partisans or friends; in
other words, to prevent the government’s _packing_ a jury, with a view
to maintain its own laws, and accomplish its own purposes.

It is supposed that, if twelve men be taken, _by lot_, from the mass of
the people, without the possibility of any previous knowledge, choice,
or selection of them, on the part of the government, the jury will be a
fair epitome of “the country” at large, and not merely of the party or
faction that sustain the measures of the government; that substantially
all classes of opinions, prevailing among the people, will be
represented in the jury; and especially that the opponents of the
government, (if the government have any opponents,) will be represented
there, as well as its friends; that the classes, who are oppressed by
the laws of the government, (if any are thus oppressed,) will have their
representatives in the jury, as well as those classes, who take sides
with the oppressor—that is, with the government.

It is fairly presumable that such a tribunal will agree to no conviction
except such as _substantially the whole country_ would agree to, if they
were present, taking part in the trial. A trial by such a tribunal is,
therefore, in effect, “a trial by the country.” In its results it
probably comes as near to a trial by the _whole_ country, as any trial
that it is practicable to have, without too great inconvenience and
expense. And as unanimity is required for a conviction, it follows that
no one can be convicted, except for the violation of such laws as
substantially the whole country wish to have maintained. The government
can enforce none of its laws, (by punishing offenders, through the
verdicts of juries,) except such as substantially the whole people wish
to have enforced. The government, therefore, consistently with the trial
by jury, can exercise no powers over the people, (or, what is the same
thing, over the accused person, who represents the rights of the
people,) except such as substantially the whole people of the country
consent that it may exercise. In such a trial, therefore, “the country,”
or the people, judge of and determine their own liberties against the
government, instead of the government’s judging of and determining its
own powers over the people.

But all this “trial by the country” would be no trial at all “by the
country,” but only a trial by the government, if the government could
either declare who may, and who may not, be jurors, or could dictate to
the jury anything whatever, either of law or evidence, that is of the
essence of the trial.

If the government may decide who may, and who may not, be jurors, it
will of course select only its partisans, and those friendly to its
measures. It may not only prescribe who may, and who may not, be
eligible to be drawn as jurors; but it may also question each person
drawn as a juror, as to his sentiments in regard to the particular law
involved in each trial, before suffering him to be sworn on the panel;
and exclude him if he be found unfavorable to the maintenance of such a
law.[^1]

So, also, if the government may dictate to the jury _what laws they are
to enforce_, it is no longer a “trial by the country,” but a trial by
the government; because the jury then try the accused, not by any
standard of their own—not by their own judgments of their rightful
liberties—but by a standard dictated to them by the government. And the
standard, thus dictated by the government, becomes the measure of the
people’s liberties. If the government dictate the standard of trial, it
of course dictates the results of the trial. And such a trial is no
trial by the country, but only a trial by the government; and in it the
government determines what are its own powers over the people, instead
of the people’s determining what are their own liberties against the
government. In short, if the jury have no right to judge of the justice
of a law of the government, they plainly can do nothing to protect the
people against the oppressions of the government; for there are no
oppressions which the government may not authorize by law.

The jury are also to judge whether the laws are rightly expounded to
them by the court. Unless they judge on this point, they do nothing to
protect their liberties against the oppressions that are capable of
being practised under cover of a corrupt exposition of the laws. If the
judiciary can authoritatively dictate to a jury any exposition of the
law, they can dictate to them the law itself, and such laws as they
please; because laws are, in practice, one thing or another, according
as they are expounded.

The jury must also judge whether there really be any such law, (be it
good or bad,) as the accused is charged with having transgressed. Unless
they judge on this point, the people are liable to have their liberties
taken from them by brute force, without any law at all.

The jury must also judge of the laws of evidence. If the government can
dictate to a jury the laws of evidence, it can not only shut out any
evidence it pleases, tending to vindicate the accused, but it can
require that any evidence whatever, that it pleases to offer, be held as
conclusive proof of any offence whatever which the government chooses to
allege.

It is manifest, therefore, that the jury must judge of and try the whole
case, and every part and parcel of the case, free of any dictation or
authority on the part of the government. They must judge of the
existence of the law; of the true exposition of the law; _of the justice
of the law_; and of the admissibility and weight of all the evidence
offered; otherwise the government will have everything its own way; the
jury will be mere puppets in the hands of the government; and the trial
will be, in reality, a trial by the government, and not a “trial by the
country.” By such trials the government will determine its own powers
over the people, instead of the people’s determining their own liberties
against the government; and it will be an entire delusion to talk, as
for centuries we have done, of the trial by jury, as a “palladium of
liberty,” or as any protection to the people against the oppression and
tyranny of the government.

The question, then, between trial by jury, as thus described, and trial
by the government, is simply a question between liberty and despotism.
The authority to judge what are the powers of the government, and what
the liberties of the people, must necessarily be vested in one or the
other of the parties themselves—the government, or the people; because
there is no third party to whom it can be entrusted. If the authority be
vested in the government, the government is absolute, and the people
have no liberties except such as the government sees fit to indulge them
with. If, on the other hand, that authority be vested in the people,
then the people have all liberties, (as against the government,) except
such as substantially the whole people (through a jury) choose to
disclaim; and the government can exercise no power except such as
substantially the whole people (through a jury) consent that it may
exercise.


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The force and justice of the preceding argument cannot be evaded by
saying that the government is chosen by the people; that, in theory, it
represents the people; that it is designed to do the will of the people;
that its members are all sworn to observe the fundamental or
constitutional law instituted by the people; that its acts are therefore
entitled to be considered the acts of the people; and that to allow a
jury, representing the people, to invalidate the acts of the government,
would therefore be arraying the people against themselves.

There are two answers to such an argument.

One answer is, that, in a representative government, there is no
absurdity or contradiction, nor any arraying of the people against
themselves, in requiring that the statutes or enactments of the
government shall pass the ordeal of any number of separate tribunals,
before it shall be determined that they are to have the force of laws.
Our American constitutions have provided five of these separate
tribunals, to wit, representatives, senate, executive,[^2] jury, and
judges; and have made it necessary that each enactment shall pass the
ordeal of all these separate tribunals, before its authority can be
established by the punishment of those who choose to transgress it. And
there is no more absurdity or inconsistency in making a jury one of
these several tribunals, than there is in making the representatives, or
the senate, or the executive, or the judges, one of them. There is no
more absurdity in giving a jury a veto upon the laws, than there is in
giving a veto to each of these other tribunals. The people are no more
arrayed against themselves, when a jury puts its veto upon a statute,
which the other tribunals have sanctioned, than they are when the same
veto is exercised by the representatives, the senate, the executive, or
the judges.

But another answer to the argument that the people are arrayed against
themselves, when a jury hold an enactment of the government invalid, is,
that the government, and all the departments of the government, _are
merely the servants and agents of the people_; not invested with
arbitrary or absolute authority to bind the people, but required to
submit all their enactments to the judgment of a tribunal more fairly
representing the whole people, before they carry them into execution, by
punishing any individual for transgressing them. If the government were
not thus required to submit their enactments to the judgment of “the
country,” before executing them upon individuals—if, in other words,
the people had reserved to themselves no veto upon the acts of the
government, the government, instead of being a mere servant and agent of
the people, would be an absolute despot over the people. It would have
all power in its own hands; because the power to _punish_ carries all
other powers with it. A power that can, of itself, and by its own
authority, punish disobedience, can compel obedience and submission, and
is above all responsibility for the character of its laws. In short, it
is a despotism.

And it is of no consequence to inquire how a government came by this
power to punish, whether by prescription, by inheritance, by usurpation,
or by delegation from the people? _If it have now but got it_, the
government is absolute.

It is plain, therefore, that if the people have invested the government
with power to make laws that absolutely bind the people, and to punish
the people for transgressing those laws, the people have surrendered
their liberties unreservedly into the hands of the government.

It is of no avail to say, in answer to this view of the case, that in
surrendering their liberties into the hands of the government, the
people took an oath from the government, that it would exercise its
power within certain constitutional limits; for when did oaths ever
restrain a government that was otherwise unrestrained? Or when did a
government fail to determine that all its acts were within the
constitutional and authorized limits of its power, if it were permitted
to determine that question for itself?

Neither is it of any avail to say, that, if the government abuse its
power, and enact unjust and oppressive laws, the government may be
changed by the influence of discussion, and the exercise of the right of
suffrage. Discussion can do nothing to prevent the enactment, or procure
the repeal, of unjust laws, unless it be understood that the discussion
is to be followed by resistance. Tyrants care nothing for discussions
that are to end only in discussion. Discussions, which do not interfere
with the enforcement of their laws, are but idle wind to them. Suffrage
is equally powerless and unreliable. It can be exercised only
periodically; and the tyranny must at least be borne until the time for
suffrage comes. Besides, when the suffrage is exercised, it gives no
guaranty for the repeal of existing laws that are oppressive, and no
security against the enactment of new ones that are equally so. The
second body of legislators are liable and likely to be just as
tyrannical as the first. If it be said that the second body may be
chosen for their integrity, the answer is, that the first were chosen
for that very reason, and yet proved tyrants. The second will be exposed
to the same temptations as the first, and will be just as likely to
prove tyrannical. Who ever heard that succeeding legislatures were, on
the whole, more honest than those that preceded them? What is there in
the nature of men or things to make them so? If it be said that the first
body were chosen from motives of injustice, that fact proves that there is
a portion of society who desire to establish injustice; and if they were
powerful or artful enough to procure the election of their instruments to
compose the first legislature, they will be likely to be powerful or
artful enough to procure the election of the same or similar instruments
to compose the second. The right of suffrage, therefore, and even a change
of legislators, guarantees no change of legislation—certainly no change
for the better. Even if a change for the better actually comes, it comes
too late, because it comes only after more or less injustice has been
irreparably done.

But, at best, the right of suffrage can be exercised only periodically;
and between the periods the legislators are wholly irresponsible. No
despot was ever more entirely irresponsible than are republican
legislators during the period for which they are chosen. They can
neither be removed from their office, nor called to account while in
their office, nor punished after they leave their office, be their
tyranny what it may. Moreover, the judicial and executive departments of
the government are equally irresponsible _to the people_, and are only
responsible, (by impeachment, and dependence for their salaries), to
these irresponsible legislators. This dependence of the judiciary and
executive upon the legislature is a guaranty that they will always
sanction and execute its laws, whether just or unjust. Thus the
legislators hold the whole power of the government in their hands, and
are at the same time utterly irresponsible for the manner in which they
use it.

If, now, this government, (the three branches thus really united in
one), can determine the validity of, and enforce, its own laws, it is,
for the time being, entirely absolute, and wholly irresponsible to the
people.

But this is not all. These legislators, and this government, so
irresponsible while in power, can perpetuate their power at pleasure, if
they can determine what legislation is authoritative upon the people,
and can enforce obedience to it; for they can not only declare their
power perpetual, but they can enforce submission to all legislation that
is necessary to secure its perpetuity. They can, for example, prohibit
all discussion of the rightfulness of their authority; forbid the use of
the suffrage; prevent the election of any successors; disarm, plunder,
imprison, and even kill all who refuse submission. If, therefore, the
government (all departments united) be absolute for a day—that is, if
it can, for a day, enforce obedience to its own laws—it can, in that
day, secure its power for all time—like the queen, who wished to reign
but for a day, but in that day caused the king, her husband, to be
slain, and usurped his throne.

Nor will it avail to say that such acts would be unconstitutional, and
that unconstitutional acts may be lawfully resisted; for everything a
government pleases to do will, of course, be determined to be
constitutional, if the government itself be permitted to determine the
question of the constitutionality of its own acts. Those who are capable
of tyranny, are capable of perjury to sustain it.

The conclusion, therefore, is, that any government, that can, _for a
day_, enforce its own laws, without appealing to the people, (or to a
tribunal fairly representing the people,) for their consent, is, in
theory, an absolute government, irresponsible to the people, and can
perpetuate its power at pleasure.

The trial by jury is based upon a recognition of this principle, and
therefore forbids the government to execute any of its laws, by
punishing violators, in any case whatever, without first getting the
consent of “the country,” or the people, through a jury. In this way,
the people, at all times, hold their liberties in their own hands, and
never surrender them, even for a moment, into the hands of the
government.

The trial by jury, then, gives to any and every individual the liberty,
at any time, to disregard or resist any law whatever of the government,
if he be willing to submit to the decision of a jury, the questions,
whether the law be intrinsically just and obligatory? and whether his
conduct, in disregarding or resisting it, were right in itself? And any
law, which does not, in such trial, obtain the unanimous sanction of
twelve men, taken at random from the people, and judging according to
the standard of justice in their own minds, free from all dictation and
authority of the government, may be transgressed and resisted with
impunity, by whomsoever pleases to transgress or resist it.[^3]

The trial by jury authorizes all this, or it is a sham and a hoax,
utterly worthless for protecting the people against oppression. If it do
not authorize an individual to resist the first and least act of
injustice or tyranny, on the part of the government, it does not
authorize him to resist the last and the greatest. If it do not
authorize individuals to nip tyranny in the bud, it does not authorize
them to cut it down when its branches are filled with the ripe fruits of
plunder and oppression.

Those who deny the right of a jury to protect an individual in resisting
an unjust law of the government, deny him all _legal_ defence
whatsoever against oppression. The right of revolution, which tyrants,
in mockery, accord to mankind, is no _legal_ right _under_ a government;
it is only a _natural_ right to overturn a government. The government
itself never acknowledges this right. And the right is practically
established only when and because the government no longer exists to
call it in question. The right, therefore, can be exercised with
impunity, only when it is exercised victoriously. All _unsuccessful_
attempts at revolution, however justifiable in themselves, are punished
as treason, if the government be permitted to judge of the treason. The
government itself never admits the injustice of its laws, as a legal
defence for those who have attempted a revolution, and failed. The right
of revolution, therefore, is a right of no practical value, except for
those who are stronger than the government. So long, therefore, as the
oppressions of a government are kept within such limits as simply not to
exasperate against it a power greater than its own, the right of
revolution cannot be appealed to, and is therefore inapplicable to the
case. This affords a wide field for tyranny; and if a jury cannot _here_
intervene, the oppressed are utterly defenceless.

It is manifest that the only security against the tyranny of the
government lies in forcible resistance to the execution of the
injustice; because the injustice will certainly be executed, _unless it
be forcibly resisted_. And if it be but suffered to be executed, it must
then be borne; for the government never makes compensation for its own
wrongs.

Since, then, this forcible resistance to the injustice of the government
is the only possible means of preserving liberty, it is indispensable to
all _legal_ liberty that this _resistance_ should be _legalized_. It is
perfectly self-evident that where there is no _legal_ right to resist
the oppression of the government, there can be no _legal_ liberty. And
here it is all-important to notice, that, _practically speaking_, there
can be no _legal_ right to resist the oppressions of the government,
unless there be some _legal_ tribunal, other than the government, and
wholly independent of, and _above_, the government, to judge between the
government and those who resist its oppressions; in other words, to
judge what laws of the government are to be obeyed, and what may be
resisted and held for nought. The only tribunal known to our laws, for
this purpose, is a jury. If a jury have not the right to judge between
the government and those who disobey its laws, and resist its
oppressions, the government is absolute, and the people, _legally
speaking_, are slaves. Like many other slaves they may have sufficient
courage and strength to keep their masters somewhat in check; but they
are nevertheless _known to the law_ only as slaves.

That this right of resistance was recognized as a common law right, when
the ancient and genuine trial by jury was in force, is not only proved
by the nature of the trial itself, but is acknowledged by history.[^4]

This right of resistance is recognized by the constitution of the United
States, as a strictly legal and constitutional right. It is so
recognized, first by the provision that “the trial of all crimes, except
in cases of impeachment, shall be by jury”—that is, by the country—and
not by the government; secondly, by the provision that “the right of the
people to keep and bear arms shall not be infringed.” This
constitutional security for “the right to keep and bear arms,” implies
the right to use them—as much as a constitutional security for the
right to buy and keep food would have implied the right to eat it. The
constitution, therefore, takes it for granted that the people will
judge of the conduct of the government, and that, as they have the
right, they will also have the sense, to use arms, whenever the
necessity of the case justifies it. And it is a sufficient and _legal_
defence for a person accused of using arms against the government, if he
can show, to the satisfaction of a jury, _or even any one of a jury_,
that the law he resisted was an unjust one.

In the American _State_ constitutions also, this right of resistance to
the oppressions of the government is recognized, in various ways, as a
natural, legal, and constitutional right. In the first place, it is so
recognized by provisions establishing the trial by jury; thus requiring
that accused persons shall be tried by “the country,” instead of the
government. In the second place, it is recognized by many of them, as,
for example, those of Massachusetts, Maine, Vermont, Connecticut,
Pennsylvania, Ohio, Indiana, Michigan, Kentucky, Tennessee, Arkansas,
Mississippi, Alabama, and Florida, by provisions expressly declaring
that the people shall have the right to bear arms. In many of them also,
as, for example, those of Maine, New Hampshire, Vermont, Massachusetts,
New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Delaware, Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Florida,
Iowa, and Arkansas, by provisions, in their bills of rights, declaring
that men have a natural, inherent, and inalienable right of “_defending_
their lives and liberties.” This, of course, means that they have a
right to defend them against any injustice _on the part of the
government_, and not merely on the part of private individuals; because
the object of all bills of rights is to assert the rights of individuals
and the people, _as against the government_, and not as against private
persons. It would be a matter of ridiculous supererogation to assert, in
a constitution of government, the natural right of men to defend their
lives and liberties against private trespassers.

Many of these bills of rights also assert the natural right of all men
to protect their property—that is, to protect it _against the
government_. It would be unnecessary and silly indeed to assert, in a
constitution of government, the natural right of individuals to protect
their property against thieves and robbers.

The constitutions of New Hampshire and Tennessee also declare that “The
doctrine of non-resistance against arbitrary power and oppression is
absurd, slavish, and destructive of the good and happiness of mankind.”

The legal effect of these constitutional recognitions of the right of
individuals to defend their property, liberties, and lives, against the
government, is to legalize resistance to all injustice and oppression,
of every name and nature whatsoever, on the part of the government.

But for this right of resistance, on the part of the people, all
governments would become tyrannical to a degree of which few people are
aware. Constitutions are utterly worthless to restrain the tyranny of
governments, unless it be understood that the people will, by force,
compel the government to keep within the constitutional limits.
Practically speaking, no government knows any limits to its power,
except the endurance of the people. But that the people are stronger
than the government, and will resist in extreme cases, our governments
would be little or nothing else than organized systems of plunder and
oppression. All, or nearly all, the advantage there is in fixing any
constitutional limits to the power of a government, is simply to give
notice to the government of the point at which it will meet with
resistance. If the people are then as good as their word, they may keep
the government within the bounds they have set for it; otherwise it will
disregard them—as is proved by the example of all our American
governments, in which the constitutions have all become obsolete, at the
moment of their adoption, for nearly or quite all purposes except the
appointment of officers, who at once become practically absolute, except
so far as they are restrained by the fear of popular resistance.

The bounds set to the power of the government, by the trial by jury, as
will hereafter be shown, are these—that the government shall never
touch the property, person, or natural or civil rights of an individual,
against his consent, (except for the purpose of bringing them before a
jury for trial,) unless in pursuance and _execution_ of a judgment, or
decree, rendered by a jury in each individual case, upon such evidence,
and such law, as are satisfactory to their own understandings and
consciences, irrespective of all legislation of the government.

[^1]: To show that this supposition is not an extravagant one, it
    may be mentioned that courts have repeatedly questioned jurors to
    ascertain whether they were prejudiced _against the government_—that
    is, whether they were in favor of, or opposed to, such laws of the
    government as were to be put in issue in the then pending trial. This
    was done (in 1851) in the United States District Court for the District
    of Massachusetts, by Peleg Sprague, the United States district judge, in
    empanelling three several juries for the trials of Scott, Hayden, and
    Morris, charged with having aided in the rescue of a fugitive slave from
    the custody of the United States deputy marshal. This judge caused the
    following question to be propounded to all the jurors separately; and
    those who answered unfavorably for the purposes of the government, were
    excluded from the panel.
    
    > “Do you hold any opinions upon the subject of the Fugitive Slave Law,
    > so called, which will induce you to refuse to convict a person
    > indicted under it, if the facts set forth in the indictment, _and
    > constituting the offence_, are proved against him, and the court
    > direct you that the law is constitutional?”
    
    The reason of this question was, that “the Fugitive Slave Law, so
    called,” was so obnoxious to a large portion of the people, as to render
    a conviction under it hopeless, if the jurors were taken
    indiscriminately from among the people.
    
    A similar question was soon afterwards propounded to the persons drawn
    as jurors in the United States _Circuit_ Court for the District of
    Massachusetts, by Benjamin R. Curtis one of the Justices of the Supreme
    Court of the United States, in empanelling a jury for the trial of the
    aforesaid Morris on the charge before mentioned; and those who did not
    answer the question favorably for the government were again excluded
    from the panel.
    
    It has also been an habitual practice with the Supreme Court of
    Massachusetts, in empanelling juries for the trial of _capital_
    offences, to inquire of the persons drawn as jurors whether they had any
    conscientious scruples against finding verdicts of guilty in such cases;
    that is, whether they had any conscientious scruples against sustaining
    the law prescribing death as the punishment of the crime to be tried;
    and to exclude from the panel all who answered in the affirmative.
    
    The only principle upon which these questions are asked, is this—that
    no man shall be allowed to serve as juror, unless he be ready to enforce
    any enactment of the government, however cruel or tyrannical it may be.
    
    What is such a jury good for, as a protection against the tyranny of the
    government? A jury like that is palpably nothing but a mere tool of
    oppression in the hands of the government. A trial by such a jury is
    really a trial by the government itself—and not a trial by the
    country—because it is a trial only by men specially selected by the
    government for their readiness to enforce its own tyrannical measures.
    
    If that be the true principle of the trial by jury, the trial is utterly
    worthless as a security to liberty. The Czar might, with perfect safety
    to his authority, introduce the trial by jury into Russia, if he could
    but be permitted to select his jurors from those who were ready to
    maintain his laws, without regard to their injustice.
    
    This example is sufficient to show that the very pith of the trial by
    jury, as a safeguard to liberty, consists in the jurors being taken
    indiscriminately from the whole people, and in their right to hold
    invalid all laws which they think unjust.

[^2]: The executive has a qualified veto upon the passage of
    laws, in most of our governments, and an absolute veto, in all of them,
    upon the execution of any laws which he deems unconstitutional; because
    his oath to support the constitution (as he understands it) forbids him
    to execute any law that he deems unconstitutional.

[^3]: And if there be so much as a reasonable _doubt_ of the
    justice of the laws, the benefit of that doubt must be given to the
    defendant, and not to the government. So that the government must keep
    its laws _clearly_ within the limits of justice, if it would ask a jury
    to enforce them.

[^4]: _Hallam_ says, “The relation established between a lord and
    his vassal by the feudal tenure, far from containing principles of any
    servile and implicit obedience, permitted the compact to be dissolved in
    case of its violation by either party. This extended as much to the
    sovereign as to inferior lords. * * If a vassal was aggrieved, and if
    justice was denied him, he sent a defiance, that is, a renunciation of
    fealty to the king, and was entitled to enforce redress at the point of
    his sword. It then became a contest of strength as between two
    independent potentates, and was terminated by treaty, advantageous or
    otherwise, according to the fortune of war. * * There remained the
    original principle, that allegiance depended conditionally upon good
    treatment, and that an appeal might be _lawfully_ made to arms against
    an oppressive government. Nor was this, we may be sure, left for extreme
    necessity, or thought to require a long-enduring forbearance. In modern
    times, a king, compelled by his subjects’ swords to abandon any
    pretension, would be supposed to have ceased to reign; and the express
    recognition of such a right as that of insurrection has been justly
    deemed inconsistent with the majesty of law. But ruder ages had ruder
    sentiments. Force was necessary to repel force; and men accustomed to
    see the king’s authority defied by a private riot, were not much shocked
    when it was resisted in defence of public freedom.”—_3 Middle Ages_,
    240-2.