Part 73

If any thing be done or threatened derogatory to the rights of the States, as secured by the organization of the Senate, may we not lift up our voices against it? Suppose the House of Representatives should vote that the Senate ought not to propose amendments to revenue bills; would it be the duty of the Senate to take no notice of such proceeding? Or, if we were to see the President issuing commissions to office to persons who had never been nominated to the Senate, are we not to remonstrate?

Sir, there is no end of cases, no end of illustrations. The doctrines of the Protest, in this respect, cannot stand the slightest scrutiny; they are blown away by the first breath of discussion.

And yet, Sir, it is easy to perceive why this right of declaring its sentiments respecting the conduct of the executive is denied to either house, in its legislative capacity. It is merely that the Senate might be presented in the odious light of _trying_ the President, judicially, without regular accusation or hearing. The Protest declares that the President is _charged with a crime, and, without hearing or trial, found guilty and condemned_. This is evidently an attempt to appeal to popular feeling, and to represent the President as unjustly treated and unfairly tried. Sir, it is a false appeal. The President has not been tried at all; he has not been accused; he has not been charged with crime; he has not been condemned. Accusation, trial, and sentence are terms belonging to judicial proceedings. But the Senate has been engaged in no such proceeding. The resolution of the 28th of March was not an exercise of judicial power, either in form, in substance, or in intent. Everybody knows that the Senate can exercise no judicial power until articles of impeachment are brought before it. It is then to proceed, by accusation and answer, hearing, trial, and judgment. But there has been no impeachment, no answer, no hearing, no judgment. All that the Senate did was to pass a resolution, in legislative form, declaring its opinion of certain acts of the executive. This resolution imputed no crime; it charged no corrupt motive; it proposed no punishment. It was directed, not against the President personally, but against the act; and that act it declared to be, in its judgment, an assumption of authority not warranted by the Constitution.

It is in vain that the Protest attempts to shift the resolution to the judicial character of the Senate. The case is too plain for such an argument to be plausible. But, in order to lay some foundation for it, the Protest, as I have already said, contends that neither the Senate nor the House of Representatives can express its opinions on the conduct of the President, except in some form connected with impeachment; so that if the power of impeachment did not exist, these two houses, though they be representative bodies, though one of them be filled by the immediate representatives of the people, though they be constituted like other popular and representative bodies, could not utter a syllable, although they saw the executive either trampling on their own rights and privileges, or grasping at absolute authority and dominion over the liberties of the country! Sir, I hardly know how to speak of such claims of impunity for executive encroachment. I am amazed that any American citizen should draw up a paper containing such lofty pretensions; pretensions which would have been met with scorn in England, at any time since the Revolution of 1688. A man who should stand up, in either house of the British Parliament, to maintain that the house could not, by vote or resolution, maintain its own rights and privileges, would make even the Tory benches hang their heads for very shame.

There was, indeed, a time when such proceedings were not allowed. Some of the kings of the Stuart race would not tolerate them. A signal instance of royal displeasure with the proceedings of Parliament occurred in the latter part of the reign of James the First. The House of Commons had spoken, on some occasion, "of its own undoubted rights and privileges." The king thereupon sent them a letter, declaring that _he would not allow that they had any undoubted rights; but that what they enjoyed they might still hold by his own royal grace and permission_. Sir Edward Coke and Mr. Granville were not satisfied with this title to their privileges; and, under their lead, the house entered on its journals a resolution asserting its privileges, _as its own undoubted right_, and manifesting a determination to maintain them as such. This, says the historian, so enraged his Majesty, that he sent for the journal, had it brought into the Council, and there, in the presence of his lords and great officers of state, tore out the offensive resolution with his own royal hand. He then dissolved Parliament, and sent its most refractory members to the Tower. I have no fear, certainly, Sir, that this English example will be followed, on this occasion, to its full extent; nor would I insinuate that any thing outrageous has been thought of, or intended, except outrageous pretensions; but such pretensions I must impute to the author of this Protest, whoever that author may be.

When this and the other house shall lose the freedom of speech and debate; when they shall surrender the rights of publicly and freely canvassing all important measures of the executive; when they shall not be allowed to maintain their own authority and their own privileges by vote, declaration, or resolution,--they will then be no longer free representatives of a free people, but slaves themselves, and fit instruments to make slaves of others.

The Protest, Mr. President, concedes what it doubtless regards as a liberal right of discussion to the people themselves. But its language, even in acknowledging this right of the _people_ to discuss the conduct of their servants, is qualified and peculiar. The free people of the United States, it declares, have an undoubted right to discuss the official conduct of the President in such language and form as they may think proper, "subject only to the restraints of truth and justice." But, then, who is to be judge of this truth and justice? Are the people to judge for themselves, or are others to judge for them? The Protest is here speaking of _political_ rights, and not moral rights; and if restraints are imposed on _political_ rights, it must follow, of course, that others are to decide whenever the case arises whether these restraints have been violated. It is strange that the writer of the Protest did not perceive that, by using this language, he was pushing the President into a direct avowal of the doctrines of 1798. The text of the Protest and the text of the obnoxious act[1] of that year are nearly identical.

But, Sir, if the people have a right to discuss the official conduct of the executive, so have their representatives. We have been taught to regard a representative of the people as a sentinel on the watch-tower of liberty. Is he to be blind, though visible danger approaches? Is he to be deaf, though sounds of peril fill the air? Is he to be dumb, while a thousand duties impel him to raise the cry of alarm? Is he not, rather, to catch the lowest whisper which breathes intention or purpose of encroachment on the public liberties, and to give his voice breath and utterance at the first appearance of danger? Is not his eye to traverse the whole horizon with the keen and eager vision of an unhooded hawk, detecting, through all disguises, every enemy advancing, in any form, towards the citadel which he guards? Sir, this watchfulness for public liberty; this duty of foreseeing danger and proclaiming it; this promptitude and boldness in resisting attacks on the Constitution from any quarter; this defence of established landmarks; this fearless resistance of whatever would transcend or remove them,--all belong to the representative character, are interwoven with its very nature. If deprived of them, an active, intelligent, faithful agent of the people will be converted into an unresisting and passive instrument of power. A representative body, which gives up these rights and duties, gives itself up. It is a representative body no longer. It has broken the tie between itself and its constituents, and henceforth is fit only to be regarded as an inert, self-sacrificed mass, from which all appropriate principle of vitality has departed for ever.

I have thus endeavored to vindicate the right of the Senate to pass the resolution of the 28th of March, notwithstanding the denial of that right in the Protest.

But there are other sentiments and opinions expressed in the Protest, of the very highest importance, and which demand nothing less than our utmost attention.

The first object of a free people is the preservation of their liberty; and liberty is only to be preserved by maintaining constitutional restraints and just divisions of political power. Nothing is more deceptive or more dangerous than the pretence of a desire to simplify government. The simplest governments are despotisms; the next simplest, limited monarchies; but all republics, all governments of law, must impose numerous limitations and qualifications of authority, and give many positive and many qualified rights. In other words, they must be subject to rule and regulation. This is the very essence of free political institutions. The spirit of liberty is, indeed, a bold and fearless spirit; but it is also a sharp-sighted spirit, it is a cautious, sagacious, discriminating, far-seeing intelligence; it is jealous of encroachment, jealous of power, jealous of man. It demands checks; it seeks for guards; it insists on securities; it intrenches itself behind strong defences, and fortifies itself with all possible care against the assaults of ambition and passion. It does not trust the amiable weaknesses of human nature, and therefore it will not permit power to overstep its prescribed limits, though benevolence, good intent, and patriotic purpose come along with it. Neither does it satisfy itself with flashy and temporary resistance to illegal authority. Far otherwise. It seeks for duration and permanence. It looks before and after; and, building on the experience of ages which are past, it labors diligently for the benefit of ages to come. This is the nature of constitutional liberty; and this is _our_ liberty, if we will rightly understand and preserve it. Every free government is necessarily complicated, because all such governments establish restraints, as well on the power of government itself as on that of individuals. If we will abolish the distinction of branches, and have but one branch; if we will abolish jury trials, and leave all to the judge; if we will then ordain that the legislator shall himself be that judge; and if we will place the executive power in the same hands, we may readily simplify government. We may easily bring it to the simplest of all possible forms, a pure despotism. But a separation of departments, so far as practicable, and the preservation of clear lines of division between them, is the fundamental idea in the creation of all our constitutions; and, doubtless, the continuance of regulated liberty depends on maintaining these boundaries.

In the progress, Sir, of the governments of the United States, we seem exposed to two classes of dangers or disturbances; one external, the other internal. It may happen that collisions arise between this government and the governments of the States. That case belongs to the first class. A memorable instance of this kind occurred last year. It was my conscientious opinion, on that occasion, that the authority claimed by an individual State[2] was subversive of the just powers of this government, and, indeed, incompatible with its existence. I gave a hearty co-operation, therefore, to measures which the crisis seemed to require. We have now before us what appears, to my judgment, to be an instance of the latter kind. A contest has arisen between different branches of the same government, interrupting their harmony, and threatening to disturb their balance. It is of the highest importance, therefore, to examine the question carefully, and to decide it justly.

The separation of the powers of government into three departments, though all our constitutions profess to be founded on it, has, nevertheless, never been perfectly established in any government of the world, and perhaps never can be. The general principle is of inestimable value, and the leading lines of distinction sufficiently plain; yet there are powers of so undecided a character, that they do not seem necessarily to range themselves under either head. And most of our constitutions, too, having laid down the general principle, immediately create exceptions. There do not exist, in the general science of government, or the received maxims of political law, such precise definitions as enable us always to say of a given power whether it be legislative, executive, or judicial. And this is one reason, doubtless, why the Constitution, in conferring power on all the departments, proceeds not by general definition, but by specific enumeration. And, again, it grants a power in general terms, but yet, in the same or some other article or section, imposes a limitation or qualification on the grant; and the grant and the limitation must, of course, be construed together. Thus the Constitution says that all legislative power, therein granted, shall be vested in Congress, which Congress shall consist of a Senate and a House of Representatives; and yet, in another article, it gives to the President a qualified negative over all acts of Congress. So the Constitution declares that the judicial power shall be vested in one Supreme Court, and such inferior courts as Congress may establish. It gives, nevertheless, in another provision, judicial power to the Senate; and, in like manner, though it declares that the executive power shall be vested in the President, using, in the immediate context, no words of limitation, yet it elsewhere subjects the treaty-making power, and the appointing power, to the concurrence of the Senate. The irresistible inference from these considerations is, that the mere nomination of a department, as one of the three great and commonly acknowledged departments of government, does not confer on that department any power at all. Notwithstanding the departments are called the legislative, the executive, and the judicial, we must yet look into the provisions of the Constitution itself, in order to learn, first, what powers the Constitution regards as legislative, executive, and judicial; and, in the next place, what portions or quantities of these powers are conferred on the respective departments; because no one will contend that _all_ legislative power belongs to Congress, _all_ executive power to the President, or _all_ judicial power to the courts of the United States.

The first three articles of the Constitution, as all know, are taken up in prescribing the organization, and enumerating the powers, of the three departments. The first article treats of the legislature, and its first section is, "All legislative power, _herein granted_, shall be vested in a Congress of the United States, which shall consist of a Senate and House of Representatives." The second article treats of the executive power, and its first section declares that "the executive power shall be vested in a President of the United States of America." The third article treats of the judicial power, and its first section declares that "the judicial power of the United States shall be vested in one Supreme Court, and in such inferior courts as the Congress may, from time to time, ordain and establish."

It is too plain to be doubted, I think, Sir, that these descriptions of the persons or officers in whom the executive and the judicial powers are to be vested no more define the extent of the grant of those powers, than the words quoted from the first article describe the extent of the legislative grant to Congress. All these several titles, heads of articles, or introductory clauses, with the general declarations which they contain, serve to designate the departments, and to mark the general distribution of powers; but in all the departments, in the executive and judicial as well as in the legislative, it would be unsafe to contend for any specific power under such clauses.

If we look into the State constitutions, we shall find the line of distinction between the departments still less perfectly drawn, although the general principle of the distinction is laid down in most of them, and in some of them in very positive and emphatic terms. In some of these States, notwithstanding the principle of distribution is adopted and sanctioned, the legislature appoints the judges; and in others it appoints both the governor and the judges; and in others, again, it appoints not only the judges, but all other officers.

The inferences which, I think, follow from these views of the subject, are two: first, that the denomination of a department does not fix the limits of the powers conferred on it, nor even their exact nature; and, second (which, indeed, follows from the first), that in our American governments, the chief executive magistrate does not necessarily, and by force of his general character of supreme executive, possess the appointing power. He may have it, or he may not, according to the particular provisions applicable to each case in the respective constitutions.

The President appears to have taken a different view of this subject. He seems to regard the appointing power as originally and inherently in the executive, and as remaining absolute in his hands, except so far as the Constitution restrains it. This I do not agree to, and I shall have occasion hereafter to examine the question further. I have intended thus far only to insist on the high and indispensable duty of maintaining the division of power _as the Constitution has marked out that division_, and to oppose claims of authority not founded on express grants or necessary implication, but sustained merely by argument or inference from names or denominations given to departments.

Mr. President, the resolutions now before us declare, that the Protest asserts powers as belonging to the President inconsistent with the authority of the two houses of Congress, and inconsistent with the Constitution; and that the Protest itself is a breach of privilege. I believe all this to be true.

The doctrines of the Protest are inconsistent with the authority of the two houses, because, in my judgment, they deny the just extent of the law-making power. I take the Protest as it was sent to us, without inquiring how far the subsequent message has modified or explained it. It is singular, indeed, that a paper, so long in preparation, so elaborate in composition, and which is put forth for so high a purpose as the Protest avows, should not be able to stand an hour's discussion before it became evident that it was indispensably necessary to alter or explain its contents. Explained or unexplained, however, the paper contains sentiments which justify us, as I think, in adopting these resolutions.

In the first place, I think the Protest a clear breach of privilege. It is a reproof or rebuke of the Senate, in language hardly respectful, for the exercise of a power clearly belonging to it as a legislative body. It entirely misrepresents the proceedings of the Senate. I find this paragraph in it, among others of a similar tone and character: "A majority of the Senate, whose interference with the preliminary question has, for the best of all reasons, been studiously excluded, anticipate the action of the House of Representatives, assume not only the function which belongs exclusively to that body, but convert themselves into accusers, witnesses, counsel, and judges, and prejudge the whole case; thus presenting the appalling spectacle, in a free state, of judges going through a labored preparation for an impartial hearing and decision, by a previous _ex parte_ investigation and sentence against the supposed offender."

Now, Sir, this paragraph, I am bound to say, is a total misrepresentation of the proceedings of the Senate. A majority of the Senate have not anticipated the House of Representatives; they have not assumed the functions of that body; they have not converted themselves into accusers, witnesses, counsel, or judges; they have made no _ex parte_ investigation; they have given no sentence. This paragraph is an elaborate perversion of the whole design and the whole proceedings of the Senate. A Protest, sent to us by the President, against votes which the Senate has an unquestionable right to pass, and containing, too, such a misrepresentation of these votes as this paragraph manifests, is a breach of privilege.