ng demanded a view after a general imparlance, the demandant issued
a writ of petit cape--held irregular."

Also, "If, after nulla bona returned, a testatum be entered upon the
roll, quod devastavit, a writ of inquiry shall be directed to the
sheriff, and if by inquisition the devastavit be found and returned,
there shall be a scire facias quare executio non de propriis bonis, and
if upon that the sheriff returns scire feci, the executor or
administrator may appear and traverse the inquisition."

Again, "If the record of Nisi prius be a die Sancti Trinitatis in tres
Septimanas nisi a 27 June, prius venerit, which is the day after the day
in Bank, which was mistaken for a die Sancti Michaelis, it shall not be
amended."

It is interesting to observe that at one end of the island a panel means
twelve perplexed agriculturists, who, after having taken an oath to act
according to their consciences, are starved till they are of one mind on
some complicated question; while, at the other end, the same term
applies to the criminal on whose conduct they are going to give their
verdict. It would be difficult to decide which is the more happy
application; but it must be admitted that we are a great way behind the
South in our power of selecting a nomenclature immeasurably distant in
meaning from the thing signified. We speak of a bond instead of a
mortgage, and we adjudge where we ought to foreclose. We have no such
thing as chattels, either personal or real.[46] If you want to know the
English law of book-debts, you will have to look for it under the head
of Assumpsit in a treatise on Nisi Prius, while a lawyer of Scotland
would unblushingly use the word itself, and put it in his index. So,
too, our bailments are merely spoken of as bills, notes, or whatever a
merchant might call them. Our garneshee is merely a common debtor. Baron
and feme we call husband and wife, and coverture we term marriage.

[Footnote 46: A late venerable practitioner in a humble department of
the law, who wanted to write a book, and was recommended to try his hand
at a translation of Latin law-maxims as a thing much wanted, was
considerably puzzled by the maxim, "Catella realis non potest legari;"
nor was he quite relieved when he turned up his Ainsworth and found that
catella means a "little puppy." There was nothing for it, however, but
obedience, so that he had to give currency to the remarkable principle
of law, that "a genuine little whelp cannot be