The remarkable thing is that, of these two kinds of hypothetical offences, the latter, the guilt of which is purely conventional, is almost as unlikely to happen as the former, whose guilt is a matter established by Law. The power of the Law is so firmly established among us that the possibility of breaches of the Law on the part of the Crown or its Ministers hardly ever comes into our heads. And conduct sinning against the broad lines of the unwritten Constitution is looked on as hardly less unlikely. Political men may debate whether such and such a course is or is not constitutional, just as lawyers may debate whether such a course is or is not legal. But the very form of the debate implies that there is a Constitution to be observed, just as in the other case it implies that there is a Law to be observed. Now this firm establishment of a purely unwritten and conventional code is one of the most remarkable facts in history. It is plain that it implies the firmest possible establishment of the power of the written Law as its groundwork. If there were the least fear of breaches of the written Law on the part of the Crown or its officers, we should be engaged in finding means for getting rid of that more serious danger, not in disputing over points arising out of a code which has no legal existence. But it is well sometimes to stop and remember how thoroughly conventional the whole of our received system is. The received doctrine as to the relations of the two Houses of Parliament to one another, the whole theory of the position of the body known as the Cabinet and of its chief the Prime Minister, every detail in short of the practical working of government among us, is a matter belonging wholly to the unwritten Constitution and not at all to the written Law. The limits of the royal authority are indeed clearly defined by the written Law. But I suspect that many people would be amazed at the amount of power which the Crown still possesses by Law, and at the many things, which in our eyes would seem utterly monstrous, but which might yet be done by royal authority without any law being broken. The Law indeed secures us against arbitrary legislation, against the repeal of any old laws, or the enactment of any new ones, without the consent of both Houses of Parliament(3). But it is the unwritten Constitution alone which makes it practically impossible for the Crown to refuse its assent to measures which have passed both Houses of Parliament, and which in many cases makes it almost equally impossible to refuse the prayer of an address sent up by one of those Houses only. The written Law leaves to the Crown the choice of all its ministers and agents, great and small; their appointment to office and their removal from office, as long as they commit no crime which the Law can punish, is a matter left to the personal discretion of the Sovereign. The unwritten Constitution makes it practically impossible for the Sovereign to keep a Minister