At length, Lord Hardwicke, in one of the cases the most solemnly argued, that has been in man’s memory, with the aid of the greatest learning at the bar, and with the aid of all the learning on the bench, both bench and bar being then supplied with men of the first form, declared from the bench, and in concurrence with the rest of the Judges, and with the most learned of the long robe, the able council on the side of the old restrictive principles making no reclamation, “that the judges and sages of the law have laid it down that there is but ONE general rule of evidence,—­the best that the nature of the case will admit."[51] This, then, the master rule, that governs all the subordinate rules, does in reality subject itself and its own virtue and authority to the nature of the case, and leaves no rule at all of an independent, abstract, and substantive quality.  Sir Dudley Ryder, (then Attorney-General, afterwards Chief-Justice,) in his learned argument, observed, that “it is extremely proper that there should be some general rules in relation to evidence; but if exceptions were not allowed to them, it would be better to demolish all the general rules.  There is no general rule without exception that we know of but this,—­that the best evidence shall be admitted which the nature of the case will afford.  I will show that rules as general as this are broke in upon for the sake of allowing evidence.  There is no rule that seems more binding than that a man shall not be admitted an evidence in his own case, and yet the Statute of Hue and Cry is an exception.  A man’s books are allowed to be evidence, or, which is in substance the same, his servant’s books, because the nature of the case requires it,—­as in the case of a brewer’s servants.  Another general rule, that a wife cannot be witness against her husband, has been broke in upon in cases of treason.  Another exception to the general rule, that a man may not be examined without oath,—­the last words of a dying man are given in evidence in the case of murder.”  Such are the doctrines of this great lawyer.

Chief-Justice Willes concurs with Lord Hardwicke as to dispensing with strict rules of evidence.  “Such evidence,” [he says,] “is to be admitted as the necessity of the case will allow of:  as, for instance, a marriage at Utrecht, certified under the seal of the minister there, and of the said town, and that they cohabited together as man and wife, was held to be sufficient proof that they were married.”  This learned judge (commenting upon Lord Coke’s doctrine, and Serjeant Hawkins’s after him, that the oaths of Jews and pagans were not to be taken) says, “that this notion, though advanced by so great a man, is contrary to religion, common sense, and common humanity, and I think the devils, to whom he has delivered them, could not have suggested anything worse.”  Chief-Justice Willes, admitting Lord Coke to be a great lawyer, then proceeds in very strong terms, and with marks of contempt, to condemn “his narrow notions”; and he treats with as little respect or decorum the ancient authorities referred to in defence of such notions.