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The clan (gens) was an aggregate of individuals supposed to be sprung from a common source, a social union, with common rights in private law, which had as its theoretical basis the notion of descent from a single ancestor. According to the juristic theory of the clan, all its individual members would, if their descent could be traced through every degree, have sprung from two individuals who were within the power of this ultimate ancestor, a sign of this original potestas being the common gentile name.[32]

The members of a clan are to one another either agnati or gentiles. In many cases the difference of nomenclature was based merely on the degree of certainty in the relationship. They were agnati when the common descent could be traced through all its stages; they were gentiles when the common descent was only an imagined fact, based on the possession of a common name. As a rule agnati are also gentiles; but there might be groups of agnates who could never be gentiles—groups, that is, of proved relationship through the male line, who could not, for reasons which we shall soon specify, form a gens.

If we believe that the Roman Patriciate represented those who alone possessed the legal status of heads of families (patres)[33]—since, the familia being the unit of the clan, the rights of a clan-member (gentilis) imply the position of a paterfamilias—it follows that the Roman gentes were, as they are represented by tradition, originally exclusively patrician, and that the terms gentilis, gentilitas implied a perfect equality of status among the only true members of the state.

The words became restricted to a certain section of the community in consequence of the evolution of plebeian rights, i.e. in consequence of the Plebeians becoming in strict law patres familias. The logical consequence of this should have been, where groups of such families bore a common name and were believed to have a common descent, that these groups should form gentes. But history is illogical, and this conclusion was not reached.

No such group could possibly form a gens of its own, if it could be regarded as having been originally in dependence on a patrician clan. Although in course of time legally independent and freed from all trammels of clientship, it was yet disqualified from clan-brotherhood by this original connexion; it remained an offshoot (stirps), a mere dependent branch, and could never be a self-existent gens. This disqualification is exhibited in the definition of gentilitas given by the jurist Scaevola (consul 133 B.C.), which gives as two of its conditions free birth in the second degree, and the absence of servile blood in one’s ultimate ancestry.[34] This definition excludes from membership of a gens all those Plebeians who had sprung originally from emancipated slaves. No one who could be proved to have the taint of servile blood could ever be a gentilis. But there is every reason to believe that servitus was interpreted in a further sense, that clientship was regarded as a quasi-servile position, and debarred a group of families, whose ancestor could be proved to be a client, for ever from being a clan.

As a rule it would have been difficult, if not impossible, to furnish this proof; but there was one legal sign of it—the bearing by a plebeian stirps of the same name as a patrician clan. The presumption of the law, in the case of the coexistence of a plebeian group of families with a patrician group of the same name, was apparently that the former had once been clients of the latter, and could never, therefore, form a gens of their own.[35]

But, if there were plebeian families that had no origin in clientship, there was nothing to prevent these from being gentes. It is true that Patricians sometimes made the claim that all the plebeian families had originated from clientship.[36] But this is, as we saw,[37] probably not true of the origin of many of the plebeian families, and there is abundant evidence that the theory was not recognised by law. We know, for instance, that gentile inheritances were shared by the plebeian Minucii, and gentile sepulchres by the plebeian Popilii.[38]

The foregoing description shows that the gens rests on a natural basis, that it professedly represents the widest limits of blood-relationship; hence it would seem to follow that it could not be artificially created or its members redistributed; that the numbers of the clans could not be regulated numerically, except conceivably by the addition to the existing number of a precise number of added clans—a most improbable procedure; and that, as being a natural and not an artificial creation, it was a union which was not likely to be of primary importance politically, and the rights of whose members were in all probability those of private rather than of public law. These expectations are verified, but the attempts to point out certain purely political characteristics of these associations deserve examination.[39]

(i.) It has been held that the clans were the unit of voting in the original popular assembly at Rome, the comitia curiata.[40] But the passage on which this conclusion is based only implies that, originally, membership of this comitia depended on possession of a gens; eventually, at a time when the curia included Plebeians, on possession of a familia, and therefore presumably of a stirps or genus.

(ii.) A distinction is presented by ancient authorities between the gentes majores and minores—a distinction within the patrician gentes that survived into the Republic. Of the gentes minores we know but one name, that of the patrician Papirii;[41] a list of some of the gentes majores has been reconstructed with some plausibility from those clans which furnished principes senatus; they are the Aemilii, Claudii, Cornelii, Fabii, Manlii, and Valerii.[42] Tradition is inclined to represent this distinction as having originated politically,[43] but it is a tradition working on the impossible hypothesis that the Patriciate derived its origin from membership of the Senate. This political distinction doubtless existed within the Senate; but it was probably derived merely from the respective antiquity, and therefore dignity, of the gentes from which its members were drawn. And this association with the Senate leads us naturally to the third question connected with the political character of the gentes, i.e. their relation to the primitive council of the state. The theory of an ultimate connexion between the two originates with the correspondence of the number of the gentes and of the Senate. Both are given by tradition as 300. The Roman community is said to have originated with the amalgamation of three domains (tribus) into one.[44] The rise of the Senate from 100, its original number as constituted by Romulus, to 300 as its final number, is accounted for by the gradual amalgamation of these three tribes with their 100 gentes each.[45] A parallel to the original centumviral constitution of the Senate is found in the centumviri of the Italian towns, and is supposed to be derived from the same invariable division of a tribus into 100 gentes.[46]

The chief objections to this view are the symmetrical number into which it divides the gentes, and the fact that the Senate is, according to the best tradition, a body of nominees selected by the chief magistrate. But yet there is an element of truth in the theory. The Senate did rise from 100 to 300 in consequence of the incorporation of fresh elements into the community, and therefore in consequence of an increase of the gentes. The kings and early consuls would doubtless, in the exercise of their powers of selection, wish to see each of the patrician clans represented in their council. Hence the addition of new clans would add new members to that body, and hence the inferior place occupied in the Senate by the gentes minores, the younger branch of the Patriciate.

Although the clan itself was inexpansive, the number of the clans, even in the old patrician community, was not. It was possible for new gentes to be added to the community, and even for old gentes to quit it. Tradition speaks of the reception of six clans that had once belonged to the parent state of Alba—the Cloelii, Curiatii, Geganii, Julii, Quinctilii (or Quinctii), and Servilii;[47] and Sabine races as well, such as the Valerii,[48] are also said to have been admitted. The reception of new gentes was effected by the Patricians and, as we should expect, by the assembly which represents the whole patrician body, the comitia curiata, under the presidency of the king. They were coopted by their peers,[49] and it is improbable that the patrician order could have been recruited by the act of the king alone.[50] He might conceivably have chosen Plebeians as members of his advising body, the Senate, as the first consuls are said to have done,[51] although such a selection is extremely improbable; but even this act would not have raised such Plebeians to the Patriciate. The admission of new gentes implies that foreigners, or even a portion of the plebeian body, might be coopted into the Patriciate; in the former case it might be the reception, in the latter the creation, of a gens. This possibility of recruiting the patrician order—whether by the creation or reception of gentes—ceased during the Republic, because the assembly of the Curies came eventually to admit Plebeians, and there was no political assembly composed exclusively of members who fulfilled all the conditions of being gentiles. The only instance of the expulsion of a gens preserved by legend is that of the Tarquinii; and the decree that this whole clan had forfeited its right to be a member of the Roman state is said to have been passed by the Populus.[52]

The account of gentes being received into the Roman community is accompanied by a tradition of their keeping together in their new settlement. Thus the Claudii, on the reception of the civitas, are said to have received a special tract of territory across the Anio for themselves and their clients.[53] Such a tradition at once suggests a close connexion between the gens and the soil, which there is no reason to doubt. But the further questions have been raised, whether the gens as a whole was the owner of the land on which it settled, and whether this was the form of common possession recognised in early Rome. It must be admitted that tradition knows nothing of such a tenure. Dionysius represents the territory given to the Claudii as destined to be divided up amongst the various familiae of the gens;[54] while in other accounts of land-assignments we hear of such being made to the curia (φράτρα)[55] or to individuals (viritim),[56] but never to the clan. Yet a plausible theory of common possession has been based on the survivals both of legal terms and of clan rights.[57] Amongst the terms describing early territorial possession we have, apart from ager publicus, the heredium and the ager privatus. The private possession of the heredium is attributed to Romulus,[58] and is thus regarded as a modification of some form of common tenure; and the heredium consisted of only two jugera,[59] an amount obviously insufficient for the maintenance of a family. Hence there must have been ager privatus as well, owned by some larger unit, and this unit would naturally have been the gens. It has also been thought that the terms descriptive of individual ownership—manus, mancipium—referred originally to movables,[60] as though immovables belonged to a common stock. Lastly, we find connected with the clan the survival of a corporate right to property and collective duties connected with it. According to the rules of regular intestate succession, in default of the suus heres, property lapses to the proximus agnatus and then to the gentiles;[61] and it was in connexion with this right, which lasted down to the end of the Republic,[62] that the definition of a gentilis was of such legal importance.[63] This inheritance is by the gentiles as a whole, for there is no proximus gentilis, and in historic times it must have been an inheritance by individuals, the property being divided amongst those who could prove their claim; but it may be the relic of an earlier inheritance by the gens as a corporation.

But the gentiles have rights in a corporate capacity as well. By the Twelve Tables they have the guardianship of the insane[64] and a reversionary right of guardianship over women and children.[65] Guardianship (tutela) must have given them all the rights of a person in Roman law, to exercise which they must have had a personal representative. But this devolution itself shows the gens acting as a corporation.

Of corporate action in their own interests, or with a view to the interests of the state, there is little evidence, although there are traces of common activity for the purpose of keeping up the dignity of the family. The patrician Claudii repudiate by common agreement the praenomen “Lucius,” because two of its bearers had been respectively convicted of highway robbery and murder,[66] and the patrician Manlii renounce the praenomen “Marcus” in consequence of a crime committed by a clansman of that name;[67] but such an agreement could hardly in historical times have had other support than the will of individual members to observe it. Perhaps the closest of the later ties of the gens were its common worship and sacrifices. They never, as in Greece, rose to the rank of great public worships, but excessive care was taken by the state to maintain them; chiefly from the view that, if the worship of a race died out, the community would lose the favour of the divinity to which it had belonged. Hence the close connexion of gentile sacra with property and inheritance.[68] Property, in the last resort, passed to the gentiles; and the sacra, that they might be maintained, were a necessary burden associated with it. For the sacra to pass out of the family was of little importance; had they passed out of the gens, there was no security for their continuance. In cases of transition from a family of one clan to a family of another, it was the duty of the pontifices to inquire how the continuity of the sacred rites might be maintained,[69] and hence one of the forms observed in the case of a change of gens by adrogation was the sacrorum detestatio, a public declaration that the individual who sought this change had ceased to claim any participation in the sacra of his race. The care for the continuity of the sacra of the clan was long one of the professed, and perhaps real, bars to marriage between Patricians and Plebeians.[70]

This question of the sacra is an index to the fact that membership of a gens might be either natural or artificial. The natural mode of entrance was by birth; and in the case of the patrician clans, before the right of intermarriage was extended to the Plebs, marriage with a patrician mother and by the ceremony of the confarreatio was necessary to constitute gentilitas for the child. Later any form of marriage sufficed, as it had doubtless always done in the case of the plebeian clans. The child, in accordance with the patriarchal principle, belonged to the clan of his father.

The form of religious marriage peculiar to the Patricians necessitated a change of gens on the part of the wife; for a woman married by the ceremony of confarreatio became a partner in the property and sacra of her husband,[71] and there is even some trace of her having originally changed her gentile name as well.[72] The ordinary plebeian form of marriage by mere agreement (consensus), which ultimately became almost universal, did not lead to a woman’s falling into the potestas of her husband, unless this power were assumed, originally by prescriptive right (usus), later by the ceremony of fictitious purchase (coemptio). In such a case she became a member of her husband’s family, but it is questionable whether the logical conclusion was pressed and she also became a member of his gens. The anomaly, if it existed, may perhaps be explained by the fact that the Plebeians, who evolved these forms of marriage, had, as a rule, no gentes.

The clan might also be changed by adoption. Adrogatio—perhaps the only form known to the old patrician community—was the method by which the head of a family voluntarily submitted himself to the potestas of another. Adoptio, on the other hand, was the change from one potestas to another. If there was a form of true adoption by patrician law,[73] it has been lost to us, and the earliest that we hear of is the plebeian form by threefold sale recognised in the Twelve Tables. At a later period it might also be effected by a written testament.

The family (familia)[74] in its original and proper meaning is the aggregate of members of a household under a common head; this head was the paterfamilias—the only member of the household who possesses legal rights.

The two ideas underlying the Roman conception of the family are those of unity and power, and both are singularly perfect. The former is attained, and the latter exercised, by the head. It is through him alone that the family is a person; and the authority he wields over the members subordinated to his will is called potestas.[75] The power over the children is described as patria potestas, as over the slave it is dominica. The two do not differ legally; there is only a difference of ethical signification. Under this potestas fall, firstly, the children, both sons and daughters; secondly, the descendants of these children; thirdly, the wife united to her lord by a form of marriage which makes her a member of the family; fourthly, the wives of the sons and grandsons who have entered the familia by a similar binding form of marriage. There is a complete absence of independent rights amongst these members of the household. As to the wife, any property that she might be possessed of, or which she acquired, passed absolutely into the power of her husband. He was responsible for her conduct and possessed the right of moderate chastisement. Severer punishment for wrongs to the household required the support of the family council. No legal action might be brought by the woman against her lord, for they were not two personalities, but one. He might divorce her on good grounds,[76] but if she were married under a form which subjected her to his power, she had no legal means of freeing herself from his tyrannous rule. Her position is that of a daughter and she inherits equally with her children. The decision as to whether the child of the marriage was to be reared (liberi susceptio) belonged to the father, but was, in the interest of the state, subjected at an early period to certain modifications. The “laws of Romulus”—that is, the early pontifical law—enjoined the rearing of every male child and of the first-born of the females; the exposure of offspring was to receive the assent of five neighbours,[77] and disobedience of these canons was to be visited with severe penalties on the parent who neglected the welfare of the state. The children and their descendants are never released from the absolute rule of the father as long as he lives. They cannot own property; for all that they acquire belongs to the common stock and is at the disposal of the head of the family. At best the father might permit the son, as he might permit the slave, to employ his own earnings for his own use. This is the peculium. Yet the grant is a mere concession, and one which may be withdrawn at any moment. If the son dies it lapses to the father; if the father dies it falls to the heir.

The child, as having no property, cannot give satisfaction for wrongs which he has committed. He is regarded as irresponsible, and responsibility for his conduct devolved on the father, who might either give compensation to the injured man, or surrender the delinquent for him to visit with his vengeance, or to use as a means of working out the damage (noxae deditio);[78] in the latter case the child becomes for ever the property of another. The father might sell him; if beyond the limits of the country, the son becomes a slave; if within the limits, he is one in private though not in public law (in causa mancipii), and exchanges servitude to the father for that to the purchaser. In an age which recognised no free contract of labour, the sale of the son was a means of putting him out to business.[79] The injunction of the Twelve Tables (perhaps the recognition of a custom far earlier than this law) that the thrice-repeated sale of a son involved loss of the patria potestas,[80] was an attempt to put an end to an inhuman traffic. The child as a thing might be stolen or detained, and as such be the object of recovery. In this case the father “vindicates” him as he would a chattel or a beast that had strayed from the homestead.[81]

The father might scourge or imprison his child,[82] even put him to death. The formula employed in adrogation (the procedure by which a man puts himself into the paternal power of another) shows that the jus vitae necisque was the most distinctive aspect of the patria potestas.[83] It was a power never questioned throughout the whole of Republican history, and which received no legal limitations until the time of the Middle Empire.[84] Sometimes it was employed as a means of saving the honour of the family, and there are instances of the son guilty of theft, the daughter of unchastity, being thus put to death;[85] sometimes it was enforced in the interest of the state to punish a public crime.[86]

Although law is in a sense an outline of life, it would be very misleading to fill up the content of Roman private life by analogy with this harsh outline. Like most of the theory of Roman law it had little correspondence with the facts; and this non-correspondence of fact and theory is the source of the strength and the beauty of Roman family life. If legal obligations do not exist between husband and wife, father and child, their place, in a civilised community, must be taken by moral obligations; and the very absence of legal sanctions will make these moral bonds peculiarly strong. It was so with the Roman family. It was an isolated, self-existent unit. The members clung closely to one another and to their head. The power of the father—the source of the unity of the household—fostered the devotion to the hearth, the love of home, which is such a distinctive attribute of the Roman. It created the belief that the members of the household, owing allegiance to a common chief, should act loyally by one another in all the relations of life, and loyalty to a living head begat loyalty to his predecessors; traditions of this union as persisting under the rule of a long line of deceased ancestors, account for the hereditary policy of Roman houses—the championship of principles advocated for centuries by such clans as the Valerii, the Porcii, and the Claudii.

The moral influence on the pater was also great. He defends, not his own selfish rights, but the rights of a corporation dependent on him; “self-help” is the essence of the principles of early Roman law. In private matters the authority of the state is weak, that of the individual strong. The rule of the Roman father was the benevolent despotism that embraces many within the sphere of its despotic interests, that forces others to observe its rights because its interests are not personal, that produces a deep sense of moral and religious responsibility towards the weak, a stern unyielding attitude towards the man who would infringe upon their rights. The only “individual” known to Roman law is the paterfamilias, but his was a glorified individuality, which, through its rule over the family, gathered strength to rule the world.

If it be thought that the loss of character must have been proportionally great in the case of the dependent members of the household, it must be remembered that the patria potestas is, for the individual, a transitory condition of things. Each subject member is preparing himself to be a pater in his own right. With the death of the existing head, all the hitherto dependent members are freed from the potestas; each forms a familia of his own; even his grandchildren by predeceased sons become heads of houses; the daughters are also freed from power, although, out of deference to the weakness of the sex, they are still under guardianship (tutela).[87] The family splits up into a number of familiae, and none of these is of more importance than the other. For the evils of primogeniture were unknown to Roman law. No hereditary caste based on the accident of birth was ever formed; and when we find an aristocracy of birth arising, it is the fittest son who can succeed his father in political office; for the bulk of the property, on which political influence was based, has not passed into the hands of some incapable elder brother.

But, apart from the moral checks on the authority of the father, which the absence of legal restraints made peculiarly strong, the civil law, public opinion, and the positive morality which found expression through certain religious or semi-religious organs, did impose certain restraints on a possible abuse of power. If the father is a lunatic (furiosus) he is, with his property, put under the care of his next of kin;[88] if he is wasteful (prodigus) and is squandering the property, of which (though legally it is his own) he is regarded only as the trustee, he is debarred from all commercial relations (commercium)[89] and prohibited from disposing of goods of which he is an unworthy administrator.

A very real customary control, one not actually enjoined by the civil law, but enforced by the powerful sovereign, which the Romans called the custom of their ancestors (mos majorum), was the obligation incumbent on the father of consulting a council of relatives (consilium domesticum) before taking any extreme step with respect to the members of his family. This was never limited to the agnatic circle; it admitted blood relations and relatives by marriage, while personal friends outside the family might be summoned as well.[90] Any severe punishment of a child and the divorce of a wife had to be submitted to the judgment of this assembly. How strong the sentiment in favour of this procedure was may be judged from the fact that in later times we find the censor (in Republican times the personal exponent of the moral sense of the community) degrading a senator who had divorced his wife without taking advice of the family council.[91] The sentiment was but one expression of the principle which runs through the whole of Roman life, that no man should act in an important matter without taking counsel of those best qualified to give it.

Certain extreme abuses of the paternal power were prohibited by religious law (fas), which in such cases enjoins capital penalties. By a supposed law of Romulus, a man who sells his wife is to be sacrificed to the infernal gods; if he divorces her without due cause, half of his property is to be confiscated to his wife and half to the goddess Ceres.[92] With the secularisation of Roman law such penalties disappeared, and it is questionable whether they often required enforcement,[93] for such religious bans are mainly the expression of a strong moral sentiment.

Lastly, there was the principle that the paternal power cannot interfere with the jus publicum. It is a principle that applies both to persons and to property. In its first application it means that the son can exercise his vote independently of the paternal control; that he can fill a magistracy which subjects his father to his command; that, at least in later times, even the function of guardianship (tutela) can be exercised without the father’s will; for this, too, is a public duty.[94] With respect to property, public law, though not infringing on the theory that all goods belong to the paterfamilias, yet does not regard them as the object of purely individual ownership. The father is rather a trustee than an owner, and even under the Servian constitution, that is, according to tradition, before the close of the monarchy, the value of a freehold is taken to qualify the members of the familia, not merely its head, for service to the state, and ultimately for the exercise of political rights.[95]

An instance of the triumph of the state in its conflict with private property is furnished by the position of the bondsman (nexus). It may be appropriately discussed here; for the nexus is in private law practically in the position of the son under power. He was a man who had contracted a debt on the security of his person,[96] and who, on non-fulfilment of that obligation, had had his body and his services attached by the creditor. In private law he is a slave; in public law he is a free-born Roman citizen, and may be summoned for service in the legions when the state needs his help.

It would be an anachronism to enter on a full treatment of Roman slavery in connexion with the beginnings of Roman history. Almost all that we know of the legal relations of slaves to their masters, of their capacities and their disabilities, their hopes of freedom, their position in the home, and their influence on the public life of the city, refers to a far later period. Yet the class doubtless existed from the earliest times, and as Roman legal conceptions became modified but never completely altered by the course of time, it is possible to give a faint outline of the conditions of slavery in the Regal and early Republican periods.

Slavery may at all periods of the history of Rome be defined as an absence of personality. The slave was a thing (res) and belonged to that more valuable class of chattels which the Romans called res mancipi, and which included land and beasts of burden. He was, therefore, a part of the homestead (familia),[97] the transfer of any portion of which required the most solemn forms of Roman law. As a thing, the master is said to exercise dominium over him; he might deal with him as he pleased, and had over him the power of life and death. The slave, on the other hand, has not only no rights against his master, but cannot conclude legal relations with others. He has no legal relatives, no legal wife; he may be permitted to retain the fruits of his own labour, but even his master’s will cannot make it his property. How far this “thing” possessed a potential personality we do not know—how far, that is, the personality inherent in him could be realised by subsequent emancipation. Liberation could at best have raised the slave to the condition of the client at this early period—a slight ascent in the scale of actual rights, but one that might have been valued for the greater personal freedom and the surer guarantee of religious protection which it gave. But the fact that the slave is a part of the homestead, and at the same time an intelligent being, makes him in the truest sense a member of the family. The owner is said to have power (potestas) over him, a word which is used only of rule over reasonable beings; and this dominica potestas does not differ essentially from the patria potestas which is exercised over the son. The treatment of the two was doubtless different, for the one would some day be a lord, the other would remain a slave, but their legal relation to the dominus was the same.

But the legal status of the slave is no true index of his condition. This will depend on two factors, his origin and his social relations to his master; and on both these grounds the early slavery of Rome must have compared favourably with that of later times. The slave trade was probably unknown, and the condition must have been mainly the result of capture in war from neighbouring states. Slavery is not altogether degrading when it is wholly the consequence of the laws of war. The slave was an Italian, perhaps of as noble birth as his master, and this, though it may have aggravated the bitterness of the lot, must have rendered possible an intimate social intercourse which would not have been possible with the barbarian, and must have forced on the master’s mind the conviction that a sudden turn in fortune’s wheel might place him in the same position in the city of his serf. Again, the servitude was domestic; whether employed in the home, or on the common lands of the clan, or on the petty plot of ground that the master called his own, the slave was never severed from his master or his master’s kindred. We hear in early times of his sitting at his master’s table,[98] and of his being the tutor and playmate of his lord’s children.[99] He may in some cases have been better off than the client or the unattached Plebeian engaged in some petty trade. Certainly the opportunities for the primitive culture afforded by the Roman household were more open to him than to the other orders excluded from the Patriciate. In the case of domestic slavery extending over a small area, public opinion is generally a powerful restraint on the master’s caprice. We do not know whether this opinion found a religious expression in such principles as those which protected the client’s rights; but the fact that the censor of the later Republic, who perpetuates the obligations of religious law, punishes acts of cruelty committed by the dominus,[100] may show that the slave was not wholly without the pale of divine protection.

If, as we have seen, the Roman’s chief mode of livelihood, the land, was not his own property but that of the clan, no individual disposition of it during lifetime or after death was possible, although there may have been some right of bequest over the movables classed as res nec mancipi. When the theory of common possession was modified by the recognition of a heritable allotment, bequest may have become possible; but doubtless intestate inheritance still continued to be the rule. A law of inheritance is first known to us from the Twelve Tables, which allowed the utmost freedom of bequest and legacy; but there was a survival both of theories and practices which show that testamentary disposition was originally regarded as the exception and not the rule.

First, we may notice that even in later times the immediate heirs of a man were regarded as having a claim to property, a kind of potential ownership, during the lifetime of the pater, and that inheritance is regarded merely as a continuation of ownership (dominium);[101] and in accordance with this view we find the practice of holding an inheritance in joint ownership, the co-heirs bearing the name of consortes.[102]

Secondly, the earliest testaments of which we have knowledge were public acts performed before the comitia of the people. The most ancient was the patrician form of testament—the testamentum comitiis calatis—effected at the comitia curiata which were summoned (calata) twice a year for this purpose.[103] The original purpose of this public testament is obscure. It is possible that originally it took place when there was no direct heir (suus heres) to receive the inheritance, and that it was accompanied by some form of adoption of a successor. The person adopted might have been the son belonging to another family; although of such a procedure there is no further trace in Roman law.[104]

The publicity of the act and the infrequency of its occurrence show how exceptional a will must have been, and that the normal mode of succession was that by intestacy. But we have no warrant for saying that this testament at the comitia calata was an act of private legislation and was permitted by the assembled burgesses. The gathering was perhaps merely a form, and the persons assembled may have acted only as witnesses;[105] but the very publicity would have made it almost impossible to pass over a son of the family, unless there were expressed grounds for his disinheritance.

The second kind of public will was the military testament (in procinctu),[106] but our authorities leave us in doubt as to whether this testament could be made in any gathering of the soldiers prepared to meet the enemy and in any place, or whether it was a formal act possible only in the great gathering of the exercitus in the Campus Martius—that gathering which was finally organised as a legislative assembly, existed by the side of the assembly of the Curies, and came to be known as the comitia centuriata.

In the first case it may have been an old patrician form of testament, an informal will permitted in an emergency, perhaps to enable a childless soldier to transmit his inheritance. We do not know whether it had absolute validity, or only a validity dependent on circumstances, such as the absence of direct heirs, or the satisfaction of religious conditions approved by subsequent pontifical scrutiny; on this hypothesis the comrades of the testator could hardly have acted other than as witnesses to the will.

On the second hypothesis it would have a closer analogy to the testament made in the comitia calata, and may have been introduced only when Plebeians were admitted to political rights in this assembly. It is true that this is not a necessary conclusion, for the patres gathered armed for war in the Campus long before the enrolment of the Plebs for military duties or their admission to political rights; but we may at least say that, when this enrolment and admission were effected, this form of testament could be used by the Plebeians. If we accept the traditional date for the Servian constitution, it was common to the two orders before the close of the monarchy.

But there was a third type of will, one purely plebeian, which from the comparative simplicity of its form and the readiness with which it could be employed (since it did not depend either on chance or formal gatherings of the people) gradually came, in its subsequent developments, to replace all others, and became the prevailing Roman form of testament-making. This was the testament per aes et libram, one use of the mancipatio or solemn transference of property “by the copper and the scales.” In the form in which it is known to us, it is a late development, for the sale of the property has entirely ceased to be a real, and has become a fictitious sale; the mancipation in fact has become a mere formality, and its employment is said to have been dependent on the condition that the testator “subita morte urguebatur”[107]—a condition which implies that the comitial testament could in ordinary cases be resorted to. But as the Plebs had originally no access to this form of will, the testament per aes et libram must have been in use among them long before its recognition as a form valid for the whole community. It was then regarded as a mere formal application of the mancipation to a special emergency, and as supplementary to the comitial testament; until its superior utility came to be recognised, the sentiment in favour of a free disposition of property grew to be strong, and the Twelve Tables, which effected the triumph of plebeian over patrician forms of procedure, recognised it as the normal mode of testate disposition.

By this act the testator, in the presence of five witnesses and the libripens, transferred the whole of his patrimony (familia) into the custody and guardianship of a person called “the purchaser of the family” (familiae emptor). In order to make a legal disposition of his property the vendor makes a formal announcement of the purport of the sale, and the buyer, as he pays the single copper coin for the patrimony, repeats the same form of words, “Let my custody and guardianship of your patrimony be purchased by this coin, to the effect that you may make a legal testament in accordance with public law.”[108] The words, which may not represent the most ancient formula, show that the familiae emptor is a mere trustee. Although the transference does not appear to have been conditioned by any express stipulation on the part of the vendor,[109] it was understood that it should only take effect on the death of the testator. On this the familiae emptor becomes guardian of the patrimony. He is not an heir but an executor, who distributes the property in accordance with the instructions of the testator from whom he has purchased.

The second stage is reached by the added importance given to the form of instruction (nuncupatio) uttered by the vendor. The Twelve Tables gave absolute validity to such instructions,[110] and the mere expression of the will of the testator came to be considered the essential part of the testament. In this announcement a true heir (heres) could be mentioned, and the familiae emptor sinks into the background. It is true that his presence is still necessary to the ceremony; he still professes to take the patrimony into his guardianship; but, like the man who holds the scales and the five witnesses, he is merely a formal assistant. The testament has ceased to be a contract; it is a one-sided expression of will and an arbitrary disposition of property. It may be either verbal or written; the last stage in the history of the civil testament is reached when the testator is allowed to exhibit a document to the witnesses of the mancipation with these words, “These waxen tablets contain my will and bequest; I ask you, Quirites, for your testimony.”[111]

Thus at a very early stage of Roman history, perhaps as early as the middle of the fifth century B.C., a man could exercise the most absolute power over the disposal of his goods. The only limitation was that the direct heirs (sui heredes) must be formally disinherited if they were to lose their rights. A mere passing over of a filius familias without formal disinheritance (exheredatio) rendered the will invalid; and in this case the sui succeeded to the vacant estate.

The social and political effects of such a dangerous liberty as the right of arbitrary testamentary disposition depend upon its use, and its use depends on the character of the people. The Roman character was, at all periods of history, devoted to the hereditary theory. It is one that was so strongly believed in that it asserted itself in spheres where it was never contemplated—during the later Republic in succession to office, in the early Empire in the succession to the Principate—and as applied to property it was an essential condition of the permanence of the Roman family. For the maintenance of a house a rigid system of intestate inheritance is bad; it may not produce great wealth, but it often produces great poverty. The only satisfactory system is a minute examination of each particular case by the state or by individuals. Such a control by the state was utterly alien to the laisser faire principles of the Roman, and history shows that the Decemvirs were right when they entrusted this discretionary power wholly to the pater. His functions as trustee were but extended to a period beyond his lifetime, and freedom of bequest was used as a means of equitable adjustment of property to the circumstances of the members of the family. The son who had made a rich marriage need not receive so much; the one destined to carry on the family traditions of office might receive more than the others. To him the heredium might be given, while the younger sons were drafted into colonies. We do not know the principles; but that the principles tended to the preservation of the family is proved by the long traditions of the noble Roman houses.