“MR SPEAKER.”

Otago Daily Times, Issue 20500, 30 August 1928, Page 14

“MR SPEAKER.”

DIGNITIES AND DUTIES,

HOUSE OF COMMONS PRECEDENT.

“Hats off! Way for the Speaker!” With those words the opening of eevry sitting of the House of Commons js heralded, writes Michael MacDonagh in the Illustrated London News. They indicate the supremacy of the Speaker and the deference paid to his office. The words of command are uttered in the lobby, or vestibule of the House, by the police inspector of the House of Commons, just as the Speaker emerges from the corridor leading from his official residence at the-hour appointed for the meeting of the House. This coming of the Speaker to the House is marked by ceremonial of simple dignity. First comes an usher. Then the Sergeant-at-Arms, in Court dress, with a sword by his side, carrying on his shoulder a great silver-gilt mace which is the symbol of the Speaker’s authority. He is followed by two of the doorkeepers, dressed, like the usher, in low-cut w'aistcoats, short jacket, kneebreeches, and silk stockings. Next comes the Speaker in his big wig and flowing silk robe-—which is held up by his train-bearer —and carrying his threecornered beaver hat in his right hand. He is accompanied by his chaplain in cassock and bands. The rear is brought up by two more doorkeepers. The stately little procession slowly wends its way across the tessellated pavement of the lobby, while the spectators (usually a few members and strangers) stand uncovered. Its sombre hue, all the figures in it being garbed in sober suits of solemn black is brought out by the ornate frame in which it is set—the richly moulded grey walls, the oak carving, the stained glass windows, the fretted roof, with its dependent electric light chandeliers in heavy brass, making of this vestibule of the House one of the most beautiful architectural features of the Palace of Westminster.

As the Speaker walks up the floor, members rise in their places to leeeiyc him. He sees his carved oak chair, prominently set on its dais at the far cud of the Chamber, and as he bows his head to it three times, there is reflected in his reverential obeisances and demeanour the high importance and historic glory of his office. Then, mounting the two steps of the dais, the Speaker stands by the chair during the ritual of prayers by the chaplain that the deliberations of - the Commons may tend to the peace and well-being of the Realm.

While the chaplain retires backwards, bowing to the Speaker, until he reaches the Bar, where hd turns round and disappears through the swing doors, the Speaker takes his seat in the chair, places his feet on the sloping footstool, and arranges his robe around him. The chair is as imposing as a throne. It is of brown oak, lightly carved, with a high back from which springs an awning, serving the double purpose of a sounding-board and a shade from the electric light which saftly falls through the orange-tinted glass ceiling of the Chamber. On either side are spacious arms or ledges for books and papers, provided with ink holes, rests for pens and pencils, drawers for notepaper; and there is also a switch for turning on electric light set in the recess .of the chair. , . , The Speaker holds in his hand a copy of the Orders of the Day, the agenda of the business set down for consideration. He has nothing to do, of course, with the initiation of Government policy or legislation; but in the control of business, once it is laid before the House, and so far as it is affected by the Standing Orders, the Speaker is supreme, and to his rulings even the Prime Minister must submit. But his experience and counsel are at the service of all, private members or Ministers, in doubt about a course of action, a point of order, a motion or an amendment to a Bill. Questions may be publicly addressed to the Speaker regarding the rules of the House or the privileges of members; but the giving of notice of such inquiries, by having them printed on the Notice Paper, as is done with questions addressed to Ministers, is not permissible. They must be sent to him bsforehand. Appeals may also be made to the Chair on points of order as they arise in the course of proceedings. But if ,a member should be in trouble about anything relating to his parliamentary duties, he can go at once to the Speaker and privately get his advice. It may be noticed that such members generally approach the Chair differentially, and with an apologetic air. Gladstone, in a note referring to his early career—it was in 1833—says, The first time that business required me to gq to the arm of the Chair to say something to Speaker Manners-Sutton —the lirst of seven whose subject I had been—who was something of a Keatc (the famous whipping headmaster of Eton), I remember the revival in me bodily of the frame of mind in which a schoolboy stands before his master.” Such is the traditional awe of Mr Speaker! Yet it may also be observed that members retire, after consultation with the Speaker, obviously satisfied, as may be inferred from their wreathed smiles and bows of thanks. In truth, the Speaker, with his air of inviting confiedence and expecting submission, is like a good old Father Confessor. He listens to everything, and gives excellent advice. But should a storm of passion arise as the debate proceeds, members, their mental balance upset, appear to forget the presence of the Speaker in the Chair. They may deliberately ignore him. They may even go the length of shouting defiantly at him. The House of Commons is, on the whole, a most orderly assembly. But think of the elements of which it is composed. There are 015 members of all sorts and conditions, elected to proclaim and defend widely divergent political views, strongly entertained. ■ In such a body some of the failings of human nature are bound occasionally to find vent—as well as most of its virtues. Every member regards his position, that of an elected representative of the people, as being as high and honourable and important as the Speaker does his, and very properly so. Many of them are of a temperament which compels them at times to give expression to their feelings not only passionately, but turbulently, and when called to order they are prone to turn their resentment on to the Speaker, as if he were the malign concoctor of the rules, and not simply their impartial administrator.

To keep a rein on such a varied team, especially in their touchy and headstrong moods, calls for firmness, but more for tact and patience. The Speaker must not be too stern in reproof. As a witness of many violent scenes in the House, I have noticed that good-tempered expostulation and appeal by the Speaker is more potent than an overbearing manner for the restoration of order. It is true that Mr Speaker Peel’s sharp and decisive cry, “ Order, Order,” and the look of stern rebuke which accompanied it, often, in my experience, were sufficient to subdue members who were disposed to be rowdy. But this was a wonderful exhibition of the force of a rare and tremendous personality. It would be unsafe, perhaps, for a Speaker less masterful so to err on the side of severity. The Speaker must not be impatient of the eccentric and the emotional. Members of this type are often the salt, of the House of Commons. Indeed, they redeem some Parliaments from being utterly commonplace. And Mr Whitney was a great success in the Chair because he recognised that there are occasions when a deaf ear is as convenient in a Speaker as the blind eye was in Nelson.