The perfect order which prevails among members is another marked feature
during the debates. The bewigged and berobed Speaker, seated in his
imposing high-backed chair, seems rather to be retained in his place out
of due deference to time-honored custom than because a presiding officer
is necessary to preserve proper decorum. To be sure, demonstrations
of applause at a good bit, or of discontent with a prosy speaker, are
common, but anything approaching disorder is of rare occurrence.

The adherence to forms and precedents is not a little amusing. Take, for
example, a "division," which corresponds to a call for the Ayes and Noes
with us. To select an instance at random,--there happens this evening to
be a good deal of excitement about some documents which it is alleged
the Ministry dare not produce; so the minority, who oppose the bill
under debate, make a great show of demanding the papers, and, not being
gratified, move to adjourn the debate, with the design of postponing the
passage of the obnoxious measure.

"I move that the debate be adjourned."

"Who seconds?"

"I do."

"Those in the affirmative," etc., etc.

Feeble "Aye."

Most emphatic "No."

"The noes have it."

"No!" "No!"

"Aye!" "Aye!"

"Divide!" "Divide!" in a perfect Babel of orderly confusion.

(Speaker, very solemnly and decidedly,)--

"Strangers must withdraw!"

Is the gallery immediately cleared? Not a bit of it. Every man retains
his place. Some even seem, to my fancy, to look a sort of grim defiance
at the Speaker, as a bold Briton should. It is simply a form, which
many years ago had some meaning, and, having once been used, cannot be
discontinued without putting the Constitution in jeopardy. Five times
this evening, the minority, intent on postponing the debate, call for
a division,--and as many times are strangers gravely admonished to
withdraw.

There are two modes of adjourning the House,--by vote of the members,
and by want of a quorum. The method of procedure in the latter case is
somewhat peculiar, and has, of course, the sanction of many generations.
Suppose that a dull debate on an unimportant measure, numerous
dinner-parties, a fashionable opera, and other causes, have combined to
reduce the number of members in attendance to a dozen. It certainly
is not difficult to decide at a glance that a quorum (forty) is not
present, and I presume you are every instant expecting, in your
innocence, to hear, "Mr. Speaker, I move,"