It was fortunate, also, that Congress did nothing more than to recommend the Convention, without undertaking to define its powers. The doubts concerning its legality, which led many persons of great influence to hesitate in sanctioning it, were thus removed, and the States were left free to join in the movement, as an expedient to discover and remedy the defects of the federal government, without fettering their delegates with explicit instructions.[386] In this way the Convention, although experimental and anomalous, derived its influence from the sources in which it originated, and was enabled, though not without difficulty, to meet the crisis in which the country was placed. That crisis was one of a singular character; for the continued existence of the Union, and the fate of republican governments, were both involved. It was felt and admitted by the wisest men of that day, that if the Convention should fail in devising and agreeing upon some system of government, at once capable of pervading the country with an efficient control, and essentially republican in its form, the Federal Union would be at an end. But its dissolution, in the state in which the country then was, must have been followed by an attempt to establish monarchical government; because the State institutions were destitute of the strength necessary to encounter the agitation which would have followed the downfall of the federal power, and yet some substitute for that power must have been found. But without civil war, and the most frightful social convulsions, nothing in the nature of monarchy could ever have been established in this country after the Revolution. "Those who lean to a monarchical government," said Washington, "have either not consulted the public mind, or they live in a region which (the levelling principles in which they were bred being entirely eradicated) is much more productive of monarchical ideas than is the case in the Southern States, where, from the habitual distinctions which have always existed among the people, one would have expected the first generation and the most rapid growth of them. I am also clear, that, even admitting the utility, nay, necessity, of the form, the period is not arrived for adopting the change without shaking the peace of this country to its foundation. That a thorough reform of the present system is indispensable, no one, who has a capacity to judge, will deny; and with hand and heart I hope the business will be essayed in a full convention. After which, if more powers and more decision are not found in the existing form, if it still wants energy and that secrecy and despatch (either from the non-attendance or the local views of its members) which are characteristic of good government, and if it shall be found (the contrary of which, however, I have always been more afraid of than the abuse of them) that Congress will, upon all proper occasions, exert the powers which are given with a firm and steady hand, instead of frittering them back to the States, where the members, in place of viewing themselves in their national character, are too apt to be looking,—I say, after this essay is made, if the system proves inefficient, conviction of the necessity of a change will be disseminated among all classes of the people. Then, and not till then, in my opinion, can it be attempted without involving all the evils of civil discord."[387]
There were other difficulties besides those which may be called legal, or technical, attending this effort to revise the system of the federal government. The failure of that system, as it had been put in operation in 1781, had, to a great extent, chilled the hopes of many of the best statesmen of America. It had been established under auspices which seemed to promise far different fruits from those it had actually produced. Its foundations were laid in the patriotism and national feeling of the States. The concessions which had been made to secure a union of republics, having various, and, in some respects, conflicting interests, seemed at first to guarantee the prompt and faithful performance of its obligations. But this fair promise had melted into most unsubstantial performance. The Confederation was framed upon a principle which never has enabled, and probably never will enable, a government to become effective and permanent,—the principle of a league.
Another and a very serious cause for discouragement was the sectional jealousy and State pride which had been constantly growing, from the Declaration of Independence to the time when the States were called upon to meet each other upon broader grounds, and to make even larger sacrifices than at any former period. It is difficult to trace to all its causes the feeling which has at times arrayed the different extremities of this Union against each other. It was very early developed, after the different provinces were obliged to act together for their great mutual objects of political independence; but, even in its highest paroxysms, it has always at last found an antidote in the deeper feelings and more sober calculations of a consistent patriotism. Perhaps its prevalence and activity may with more truth be ascribed, in every generation, to the ambition of men who find in it a convenient instrument of local influence, rather than to any other cause. It is certain, that, when it has raged most violently, this has been its chief aggravating element. The differences of neither manners, institutions, climate, nor pursuits would at any time have been sufficient to create the perils to which the Union of the States has occasionally been exposed, without the mischievous agency of men whose personal objects are, for the time, subserved by the existence of such peculiarities. The proof of this is to be found in the fact, that the seasonable sagacity of the people has always detected the motives of those who have sought to employ their passions, and has compelled them at last to give way to that better order of men who have appealed to their reason.
The difficulty of getting the assent of all the States to radical changes in the federal system, and the uncertainty as to the mode in which such changes could be effectively adopted, were also among the reasons which led many persons to regard the Convention as an experiment of doubtful expediency. The States had hitherto acted only in their corporate capacities, in all that concerned the formation and modification of the Union. The idea of a Union founded on the direct action of the people of the States, in a primary sense, and proceeding to establish a federal government, of limited powers, in the same manner in which the people of each State had established their local constitutions, had not been publicly broached, and was not generally entertained. Indeed, there was no expectation on the part of any State, when the delegates to the Convention were appointed, that any other principle would be adopted as the basis of action, than that by which the Articles of Confederation contemplated that all changes should be effected by the action of the States assembled in Congress, confirmed by the unanimous assent of the different State legislatures.
The prevailing feeling, among the higher statesmen of the country, was, that the Convention was an experiment of doubtful tendency, but one that must nevertheless be tried. Washington, Madison, Jay, Knox, Edmund Randolph, have all left upon record the evidence of their doubts and their fears, as well as of their convictions of the necessity for this last effort in favor of the preservation of a republican form of government.[388] Hamilton advanced to meet the crisis, with perhaps less hesitation than any of the Revolutionary statesmen. His great genius for political construction; his large knowledge of the means by which a regulated liberty may be secured; and the long study with which he had contemplated the condition of the country, led him to enter the Convention with more of eagerness and hope than most of its members. He saw, with great clearness, that the difficulty which embarrassed nearly all his contemporaries—the question of the mode of enacting a new constitution—was capable of solution. He did not propound that solution in advance of the assembling of the Convention; for it was eminently necessary that the States should not be alarmed by the suggestion of a principle so novel and so unlike the existing theory of the Union. But he was fully prepared to announce it, so soon as it could be received and acted upon.
It was under such auspices and with such views that the Convention assembled at Philadelphia, on the fourteenth day of May in the year seventeen hundred and eighty-seven.
At that time, the world had witnessed no such spectacle as that of the deputies of a nation, chosen by the free action of great communities, and assembled for the purpose of thoroughly reforming its constitution, by the exercise, and with the authority, of the national will. All that had been done, both in ancient and in modern times, in forming, moulding, or modifying constitutions of government, bore little resemblance to the present undertaking of the States of America. Neither among the Greeks nor the Romans was there a precedent, and scarcely an analogy. The ancient leagues of some of the cities or republics of Greece did not amount to constitutions, in the sense of modern political science; and the Roman republic was but the domination of a single race of the inhabitants of a single city.
In modern Europe, we find no trace of political science until after the nations were divided, and partial limits set to the different orders and powers of the state. The feudal system, which acknowledged no relations in society but those of lord and serf, necessarily forbade all consideration of any forms of government which were not essentially founded on that relation; and it was not until that relation had been in some degree broken in upon, that there began to be any thing like theoretical inquiries into natural rights. When this took place,—at the end, or towards the end, of the Middle Ages,—the peculiar forms of the European governments gave rise to inquiries into the relation of sovereign and subject. From the beginning of the fifteenth down to the end of the seventeenth century, there were occasional discussions on the Continent, growing out of particular events, of such questions as the right of the people to depose bad princes, and how far it was lawful to resist oppression. But questions of constitutional form, or of the right of the people to arrange and distribute the different powers of government, or the best mode of doing it, did not arise at all.
In England, from the time of the Conquest, until Magna Charta had gone far towards destroying the system, a feudal monarchy had precluded all questions touching the form or the spirit of government. The chief traits of the present constitution, which arose in a great measure from the circumstance that the lower orders of the nobility became gradually so much amalgamated with the people as to give rise to the distinct power of the commons, have all along been inconsistent with the enactment of new forms of civil polity; although from the time of the Reformation to the Revolution of 1688, the active principles of English freedom have, at different junctures, made advances of the utmost importance. The foundations on which the Stuarts sought to establish their throne were directly at variance with the spirit and principles of the Reformation, which totally denied the doctrine of passive and unlimited obedience, and which led to the struggles that gave birth to the Puritans. Those severe reformers, whose church constitution was purely republican, naturally sought to carry its principles into the state. The result was the Parliamentary troubles of James the First, the execution of Charles the First under the forms of judicial proceeding, and the despotism of Cromwell under the forms of a commonwealth. Charles the Second returned, untaught by all that had happened, to attempt the reëstablishment of the Stuart principles of unlimited obedience; and James the Second, who naturally united to them the Catholic religion, being driven from his kingdom, the question arose of a vacant throne, and how it should be filled. In all these events, however, from the death of Elizabeth to the great discussions which followed the abdication of James the Second, the idea of calling upon the people of England to frame a government of their own choice, and to define the limits and powers of its various departments, never arose. The Convention Parliament discussed, and were summoned to discuss, but a single fundamental question,—that involving the disposal of the crown.