would—­unless for historical accidents, and after happy experience—­have been persuaded to entrust to any committee.  It is a committee which can dissolve the assembly which appointed it; it is a committee with a suspensive veto—­a committee with a power of appeal.  Though appointed by one Parliament, it can appeal if it chooses to the next.  Theoretically, indeed, the power to dissolve Parliament is entrusted to the sovereign only; and there are vestiges of doubt whether in all cases a sovereign is bound to dissolve Parliament when the Cabinet asks him to do so.  But neglecting such small and dubious exceptions, the Cabinet which was chosen by one House of Commons has an appeal to the next House of Commons.  The chief committee of the legislature has the power of dissolving the predominant part of that legislature—­that which at a crisis is the supreme legislature.  The English system, therefore, is not an absorption of the executive power by the legislative power; it is a fusion of the two.  Either the Cabinet legislates and acts, or else it can dissolve.  It is a creature, but it has the power of destroying its creators.  It is an executive which can annihilate the legislature, as well as an executive which is the nominee of the legislature.  It was made, but it can unmake; it was derivative in its origin, but it is destructive in its action.  This fusion of the legislative and executive functions may, to those who have not much considered it, seem but a dry and small matter to be the latent essence and effectual secret of the English Constitution; but we can only judge of its real importance by looking at a few of its principal effects, and contrasting it very shortly with its great competitor, which seems likely, unless care be taken, to outstrip it in the progress of the world.  That competitor is the Presidential system.  The characteristic of it is that the President is elected from the people by one process, and the House of Representatives by another.  The independence of the legislative and executive powers is the specific quality of Presidential government, just as their fusion and combination is the precise principle of Cabinet government.

First, compare the two in quiet times.  The essence of a civilised age is, that administration requires the continued aid of legislation.  One principal and necessary kind of legislation is taxation.  The expense of civilised government is continually varying.  It must vary if the Government does its duty.  The miscellaneous estimates of the English Government contain an inevitable medley of changing items.  Education, prison discipline, art, science, civil contingencies of a hundred kinds, require more money one year and less another.  The expense of defence—­the naval and military estimates—­vary still more as the danger of attack seems more or less imminent, as the means of retarding such danger become more or less costly.  If the persons who have to do the work are not the same as those who have to