a judge.  For, if we consider the common law of the kingdom, it is certain that, in the case of subjects, if a man becomes deranged, his next heir does not at once enter on his property “as if he were naturally as well as civilly dead.”  And if, as in such cases is notoriously the practice, the Court of Chancery appoints a guardian of the lunatic’s property, analogy would seem to require that the Houses of Parliament, as the only body which can possibly claim authority in such a matter, should exercise a similar power in providing for the proper management of the government to that which the law court would exercise in providing for the proper management of an estate; and that, therefore, the principles of constitutional[122] statesmanship, which is deeply interested in upholding the predominant authority of Parliament, must justify the assertion of the ministers that the two Houses had the entire and sole right to make regulations for the government of the kingdom during the incapacity of the sovereign; and that the next heir, even when a son of full age, can have no more right to succeed to his father’s royal authority in his lifetime than, if that father were a subject, he would have to succeed to his estate.

The opposite doctrine would seem to impugn the legality of the whole series of transactions which placed William and Mary on the throne.  The admission of an indefeasible right of the heir-apparent would have borne a perilous resemblance to a recognition of that divine right, every pretension to which the Revolution of 1688 had extinguished.  If, again, as Fox and his followers at one time endeavored to argue, the Houses in 1789 had no right to the name or power of a Parliament, because the King had no part in their meetings, the convention that sat a century before (as, indeed, was admitted) was certainly far less entitled to that name or power, for it had not only never been called into existence by a King, but was assembled in direct defiance of the King.  Similarly, it is admitted that the body which invited Charles II. to return and resume his authority was equally destitute of the validity which could only be given by a royal summons.  Yet both these bodies had performed actions of greater importance than that which was looked for from this Parliament.  The one had abolished the existing and usurping government, and restored to his kingdom a King who had been long an exile.  The other had, as it were, passed sentence on the existing sovereign, on grounds which confessedly will not bear a strict examination, and had conferred the crown on a prince who had no hereditary claim to the title.  The justification of both acts was necessity. Salus regni suprema Lex.  And the necessity was clearly more urgent in the present case than in either of the preceding instances.  For, unless the Parliament interfered to create an authority, there was absolutely none in existence which was capable of acting.  It should also be remembered that this Parliament of 1789, though not opened for the session by the King, had been originally elected in obedience to his order, and had been prorogued by his proclamation to the day of meeting;[123] and, though the opening of a session by a speech from the throne is the usual form for the commencement of its proceedings, it may be doubted whether it be so indispensable a part of them that none of their acts are valid without it.