But it is a more doubtful question, whether, if they should pronounce an offence to be a breach of privilege, as in the case of the Aylesbury men, which a court of justice should perceive to be clearly none, or if they should commit a man on a charge of misdemeanour, and for no breach of privilege at all, as in the case of Mist the printer, such excesses of jurisdiction might not legally be restrained by the judges. If the resolutions of the Lords in the business of Ashby and White are constitutional and true, neither house of parliament can create to itself any new privilege; a proposition surely so consonant to the rules of English law, which require prescription or statute as the basis for every right, that few will dispute it; and it must be still less lawful to exercise a jurisdiction over misdemeanours, by committing a party who would regularly be only held to bail on such a charge. Of this I am very certain, that if Mist, in the year 1721, had applied for his discharge on a habeas corpus, it would have been far more difficult to have opposed it on the score of precedent or of constitutional right, than it was for the attorney-general of Charles I., nearly one hundred years before, to resist the famous arguments of Selden and Littleton, in the case of the Buckinghamshire gentlemen committed by the council. If a few scattered acts of power can make such precedents as a court of justice must take as its rule, I am sure the decision, neither in this case nor in that of ship-money, was so unconstitutional as we usually suppose: it was by dwelling on all authorities in favour of liberty, and by setting aside those which made against it, that our ancestors overthrew the claims of unbounded prerogative. Nor is this parallel less striking when we look at the tone of implicit obedience, respect, and confidence with which the judges of the eighteenth century have spoken of the houses of parliament, as if their sphere were too low for the cognisance of such a transcendant authority.[402] The same language, almost to the words, was heard from the lips of the Hydes and Berkeleys in the preceding age, in reference to the king and to the privy council. But as, when the spirit of the government was almost wholly monarchical, so since it has turned chiefly to an aristocracy, the courts of justice have been swayed towards the predominant influence, not, in general, by any undue motives, but because it is natural for them to support power, to shun offence, and to shelter themselves behind precedent. They have also sometimes had in view the analogy of parliamentary commitments to their own power of attachment for contempt, which they hold to be equally uncontrollable; a doctrine by no means so dangerous to the subject's liberty, but liable also to no trifling objections.[403]