CHAPTER XII
PROCEDURE IN THE HOUSE OF COMMONS
The House, its Rules and Officers
Small Number of Seats.
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 sky-lights 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, 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 legislative chamber are not without influence upon the mode of transacting business. The whole number of seats in the 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.
Attendance Often Small.
On a great occasion, like the introduction by Mr. Gladstone of his first Home Rule Bill, every seat in the House 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 lobby, the library, the smoking-room, the dining-room, or the terrace. Nor is it always the lesser lights alone that speak to nearly empty benches, or rather to the reporters' gallery. The writer well remembers, on the first occasion when he saw the House, now more than twenty years ago, that Sir William Harcourt, then Home Secretary, made a speech an hour and three quarters long upon a bill which he had brought in to reform the government of London, and that, during a great part of the time, the only persons present besides the officers of the House, were the Lord Mayor, the Chairman of the Metropolitan Board of Works, and a casual who sat on one of the upper benches behind the minister. This is the smallest number of members the writer has ever beheld in the House, but to see only a score or two on the benches is by no means unusual. Many more, however, although not within ear-shot, are potentially present. Forty members constitute a quorum, but if any one suggests that they are not there, electric bells are rung all over the building, summoning the members into the House, a two-minute sand-glass is turned, and the members are not counted until it has run out. The same process takes place whenever a division—that is a vote by count—is challenged.
Effect of This on Debates.
The small size of the chamber makes it easy to hear an ordinary tone of voice; and this, coupled with the still smaller attendance, discourages flights of oratory or popular eloquence, and gives to the debates a businesslike and almost conversational character. Moreover, the very fact that members do not stay in the House if not interested in what is being said, prevents the distracting hum of conversation which is sometimes annoying in other representative bodies. All this makes the spectator feel that the members are present for public business and nothing else. Except for occasional scenes enacted for the most part by the Irish members, the proceedings are orderly, and respect for the dignity of the House, and the authority of the chair, are almost universal.