That he takes his place in the Senate is not, therefore, necessarily in his favor. Catiline, after plotting the destruction of Rome, took his place in the Senate, and listened to the orator who denounced the treason; nor did the Roman patriot hesitate to point his eloquence by the exclamation that the traitor even came into the Senate,—“etiam in Senatum venit.” In the history of our country there is a well-known instance of kindred audacity. Benedict Arnold, after commencing correspondence with the enemy, and before detection, appeared at the bar of a court-martial in Philadelphia, and yet, with treason not only in his heart, but already in his acts, thus spoke, without a blush: “Conscious of my own innocence and the unworthy methods taken to injure me, I can with boldness say to my persecutors in general, and to the chief of them in particular,”—and, with this introduction, he alleged patriotic service.[125] You know well the result. The traitor thus appearing and speaking in open court continued his treason. The faithful historian does not hesitate to say that “at the moment these declarations were uttered he had been eight months in secret correspondence with the enemy, and was prepared, if not resolved, when the first opportunity should offer, to desert and betray his country.”[126] History teaches by example; and the instances that I adduce admonish us not to be governed merely by appearances, but to look at things as they are, and to judge according to facts, against which all present professions are of little worth.
I put aside, therefore, the argument founded on the presence of the person in question. That he still continues in the Senate, and even challenges this inquiry, does not prove his innocence any more than it proves his guilt. The question is still open, to be considered carefully, gravely, austerely, if you will, but absolutely without passion or prejudice,—anxious only that justice should prevail. Your decision will constitute a precedent, important in the history of the Senate, either as warning or encouragement to disloyalty. And since our votes are to be recorded, I am anxious that the reasons for mine should be known.
The question may be properly asked, if this inquiry is to be conducted as in a court of justice, under all the restrictions and technical rules of judicial proceedings. Clearly not. Under the Constitution, the Senate, in a case like the present, is absolute judge, free to exercise its power according to its own enlightened discretion. It may justly declare a Senator unworthy of a seat in this body on evidence defective in form, or on evidence even which does not constitute positive crime. A Senator may deserve expulsion without deserving death; for in the one case the proceeding is to purge the Senate, while in the other it is punishment of crime. The motives in the two cases are widely different. This identical discretion has been already exercised at this very session, as well as the last, in the expulsion of several Senators. And the two early precedents—the first of William Blount, in 1797, and the second of John Smith, in 1807—both proceeded on the assumption that the Senate was at liberty to exercise a discretion unknown to a judicial tribunal. In the well-considered report of the Committee in the latter case, prepared by John Quincy Adams, at that time Senator, we find the following statement.
“In examining the question, whether these forms of judicial proceedings or the rules of judicial evidence ought to be applied to the exercise of that censorial authority which the Senate of the United States possesses over the conduct of its members, let us assume, as the test of their application, either the dictates of unfettered reason, the letter and spirit of the Constitution, or precedents, domestic or foreign, and your Committee believe that the result will be the same: that the power of expelling a member must in its nature be discretionary, and in its exercise always more summary than the tardy process of judicial tribunals. The power of expelling a member for misconduct results, on the principles of common sense, from the interest of the nation that the high trust of legislation should be invested in pure hands.”[127]
I do not stop to consider and illustrate a conclusion thus sustained by precedent as well as reason. It is obvious that the Senate may act on any evidence satisfactory to show that one of its members is unworthy of his seat, without bringing it to the test of any rule of law. It is true that the good name of the individual is in question; but so also is the good name of the Senate, not forgetting also the welfare of the country; and if there are generous presumptions of personal innocence, so also are there irresistible instincts of self-defence, compelling us to act vigorously, not only to preserve the good name of the Senate, but also to save the country menaced by traitors.
Consider, too, the position of a Senator. Elected by the Legislature of his State, he sits for six years in this body, sharing its labors, its duties, its trusts. His official term is the longest known to the Constitution. The Representative, and the President himself, pass away; but the Senator continues. In ordinary times his responsibilities are large; but now they are larger still. On every question of legislation, touching our multitudinous relations, touching our finances, our army, our navy, touching, indeed, all the issues of peace and war,—also on every question of foreign policy, whether in treaties or in propositions disclosed in executive session,—and again, on all nominations by the President, judicial, executive, military, and naval,—the Senator is called to vote; and he is free to join in debate, and to influence the votes of others. With these great responsibilities are corresponding opportunities of knowledge with regard to the counsels of the Government. These doors are often closed against the public, but they are never closed against him. This position of the Senator gives to the question of his loyalty an absorbing interest. Surely it is of no small moment to know if there be among us any person unworthy of all this confidence.
The facts in the present case are few, and may be easily stated; for, beyond certain presumptions, they are of public notoriety, and above all doubt. Indeed, the whole case can be presented as plainly and as unanswerably as a mathematical proposition or a diagram in geometry.