1

of Law." This principle has not always been accepted by the House, which has on several occasions come into collision with the courts; but the latter have always maintained, and maintained successfully, that when a question involving a privilege of the House comes before them for decision, it is their duty to ascertain whether the privilege exists or not, and to determine its effect upon the case before them. They have further maintained that they must decide the question for themselves, and that a claim to the privilege on the part of the House is not conclusive.

In one respect the authority of the courts is incomplete; for the House has a right to order a man committed to prison for contempt, and the question what constitutes a contempt is so far within the discretion of the House that the court will not order the prisoner set at liberty on habeas corpus where the return to the writ simply states that he is committed for contempt by order of the House. Referring to this subject, Professor Dicey says: "The powers exercised by the Houses, and especially in practice by the House of Commons, make a near approach to an authority above that of the ordinary law of the land." 2 Such a power, however, is exceedingly unlikely to be used in any dissension with the courts to-day; and if it were used, the courts would be almost certain to win, because the commitment by the House terminates with the session.

solution.

There remain to be considered only the methods of calling summons Parliament together, and of putting an end to its labours. and DisParliament can be summoned and dissolved, and its sessions can be opened and closed by the Crown alone, the only legal restraint upon the arbitrary power of the sovereign in the matter being the Act of William and Mary, which provides that a new Parliament shall be summoned within three years after a dissolution. This statute is now, of course, unnecessary; and, in fact, the same proclamation

3

Prorogation and Adjourn

ment.

Effect on
Unfinished
Business.

which dissolves one Parliament always announces the issue of writs for the election of another. If Parliament is not dissolved by the Crown, its term expires at the end of the seven years prescribed by the Septennial Act of 1716; but, as a matter of fact, Parliament never dies a natural death, and if its life is not cut off earlier, a dissolution takes place shortly before the end of the seven years.

Until 1867 the death of a sovereign always wrought a dissolution of Parliament; but this rule, which depended more on ancient theory than on modern convenience, was abolished by the Reform Act of that year.

While a session can be brought to a close only by prorogation, either house may adjourn for any period at its pleasure, subject only to the right of the Crown to terminate an adjournment of more than fourteen days. Although a prorogation is made by the Crown, and adjournment by the House itself, practically both are virtually in the hands of the ministry to-day, and the really important difference between them is that a prorogation terminates all unfinished business, while an adjournment does not. For that reason a government which has business that it cannot put through during the regular session, and does not want to abandon, will sometimes resort to an adjournment instead of a prorogation. This was done, for example, in 1902 in order to complete the stages of the Education Bill in the autumn, and again in 1906 chiefly in order that the House of Lords might consider the pending government measures. The wisdom of the rule that the close of the session puts an end to all measures that have not finished their course in both Houses is not so clear in the case of Parliament, as in that of legislative bodies where a vast number of measures are brought in by irresponsible members. In such bodies the rule may result in killing a great many bills that had better die, but in Parliament this is far less true. Almost all important legislation relating to public affairs is now introduced by the ministers; and every year measures to which both they and the House have devoted much time

and thought are killed by the close of the session. A day comes when the leader of the House arises and states what bills he is obliged by lack of time to drop, a process commonly known as the slaughter of the innocents. The necessity would seem to be unfortunate.

In fact the House of Commons spends so much time in debating each bill that it gets through its work slowly; and whereas many other popular chambers are reproached with legislating too much, Parliament is accused of legislating too little. Moreover the House of Commons suffers less from an excess of the easy good nature, which, in America at least, is the parent of many ill-considered and unwise laws; yet the present rule does act as a serious check upon the persistent member with a mission, and perhaps it kills off, on the whole, more bad bills than good ones.

Private

There is, however, a class of measures on which the rule, Suspending if carried out strictly, would have a distinctly injurious Bills. effect. These are the private bills a term applied to

projects which relate to private or local interests, such as bills for the extension of a railway, or for authority to supply water, gas, tramways and the like. Legislation of that kind is, as we shall see, conducted in Parliament by a semijudicial process, and as it is highly expensive for both sides, it would be unreasonable that the closing of the session, for reasons quite unconnected with these matters, should oblige the promoters and objectors to incur the cost of beginning proceedings all over again. In practice this seldom happens, for in the few cases where such a bill cannot be completed before the end of the session it is usually suspended by a special order providing that the stages it has already passed shall be formally taken at the opening of the next session, so that the bill really begins its progress again at the point it had already reached. When, as in 1895, Parliament comes to an untimely end in the midst of a session, a general provision of this kind is made suspending all unfinished private bills, and thus a great deal of unnecessary hardship is avoided.

CHAPTER XII

PROCEDURE IN THE HOUSE OF COMMONS

The House, its Rules and Officers

To the traveller who cares for history, either of the past or in the making, there is no place more interesting than the long sombre building with a tower at each end, that borders the Thames just above Westminster Bridge. Apart from occasional meetings at other places during the Middle Ages, the Mother of Parliaments has sat close to this spot for more than six hundred years. Except for old Westminster Hall, almost the whole of the present structure was, indeed, built after the fire of 1834. Yet if it contains little that is really venerable, save memories, the smoke of London has given to the gothic panelling of the outer walls the dignity of apparent age. The interior has a more modern air, for it is not only well planned with a view to its present use, but in some parts it expresses with peculiar fitness the purposes it serves. From opposite sides of the large central lobby corridors lead to the two Houses, but the hall of the Lords seems designed for ornament, that of the Commons for doing work. The House of Commons is seventy-five feet long by forty-five feet wide and forty-one feet high, panelled in dark oak, and lit by long stained glass windows and skylights in the ceiling. From the main entrance a broad aisle runs the whole length of the chamber, with the clerks' table filling nearly the whole upper end of it, and beyond this a raised chair for the Speaker with a canopy over his head. Facing the aisle on each side long rows of high-backed benches, covered with dark green leather,

Number

of Seats.

slope upward tier above tier to the walls of the room;
and through them, at right angles to the aisle, a narrow
passage, known as the gangway, cuts across the House.
There is also a gallery running all around the room, the
part of it facing the Speaker being given up to strangers,
while the front rows at the opposite end belong to the
reporters, and behind them there stands, before a still higher
gallery, a heavy screen, like those erected in Turkish mosques
to conceal the presence of women, and used here for the
same purpose. The structure and arrangement of a legisla-
tive chamber are not without influence upon the mode of
transacting business. The whole number of seats in the Small
House of Commons is far from large, not large enough for
all the members. The two side galleries are reserved for
them, but they are very narrow, containing only a little
more than one hundred seats apiece, and although they
are occupied on very crowded nights, they are practically
useless for any one who intends to take part in debate.
A small portion of the space under the strangers' gallery
is also appropriated for visitors, and the rest of the floor
contains only three hundred and sixty seats, enough for
little more than one half of the six hundred and seventy
members of the House. During the greater part of the
time even those seats are not filled, for they are adapted
only for the transaction of the business of the House.
They are merely benches with no means for writing. If
a member wants to carry on his correspondence, he goes to
the library, or to one of the other rooms near by. In the
House he can only speak, listen, and applaud.

Small.

On a great occasion, like the introduction by Mr. Glad- Attendance stone of his first Home Rule Bill, every seat in the House often is taken. At the opening of an ordinary sitting, also, while questions to the ministers are asked and answered, and at a time when the leaders of the two great parties are speaking about a measure of general interest, most of the seats on the floor are occupied; but as soon as the lesser lights arise the members begin to drop off, going to the