The difference of origin of the two branches of the legislature made it necessary to provide for different modes of supplying the vacancies that might occur in them. The obvious way of effecting this in the case of a vacancy in the office of a representative was to order a new election by the people, who can readily assemble for such a purpose; and the duty of ordering such elections was imposed on the executives of the States, because those functionaries would be best informed as to the convenience of their meeting. But the State legislatures, to whom the choice of senators was to be confided, would be in session for only a part of the year; and to summon them for the special purpose of filling a vacancy in the Senate might occasion great inconvenience. The committee of detail, therefore, provided that vacancies in the Senate might be supplied by the executive of the State until the next meeting of its legislature.

It is now time to turn to the examination of that great scheme of separate and concurrent powers, which it had been proposed to confer upon the Senate, and the suggestion of which influenced to a great degree the qualifications of the members, their term of office, and indeed the entire construction of this branch of the legislature. The primary purpose of a Senate was that of a second legislative chamber, having equal authority in all acts of legislation with the first, the action of both being necessary to the passage of a law. As the formation of the Constitution proceeded, from the single idea of such a second chamber, without any special character of representation to distinguish it from the first, up to the plan of an equal representation of the States, there was a strong disposition manifested to accumulate power in the body for which this peculiar character had been gained. It had been made the depositary of a direct and equal State influence; and this feature of the system had become fixed and irrevocable before the powers of the other departments, or their origin or relations, had been finally settled. The consequence was, that for a time, wherever jealousy was felt with regard to the executive or the judiciary,—wherever there was a doubt about confiding in the direct action of the people,—wherever a chasm presented itself, and the right mode of filling it did not occur,—there was a tendency to resort to the Senate.

Thus, when the committee of detail were charged with the duty of preparing the Constitution according to the resolutions agreed upon in the Convention, the Senate had not only been made a legislative body, with authority co-ordinate to that of the House, but it had received the separate power of appointing the judges, and the power to give a separate vote in the election of the executive. The power to make war and treaties, the appointment of ambassadors, and the trial of impeachments, had not been distinctly given to any department; but the general intention to be inferred from the resolutions was, that these matters should be vested in one or both of the two branches of the legislature. To the executive, the duty had been assigned, which the name of the office implies, of executing the laws; to which had been added a revisionary check upon legislation, and the appointment to offices in cases not otherwise provided for. The judicial power had been described in general and comprehensive terms, which required a particular enumeration of the cases embraced by the principles laid down; but it had not been distinctly foreseen, that one of the cases to which those principles must lead would be an alleged conflict between an act of legislation and the fundamental law of the Constitution. The system thus marked out was carried into detail by the committee, by vesting in the Senate the power to make treaties, to appoint ambassadors and judges of the Supreme Court, and to adjudicate questions of boundary between the States; by giving to the two branches of the legislature the power to declare war; by assigning the trial of impeachments to the Supreme Court, and enumerating the other cases of which it was to have cognizance; and by providing for the election of the executive by the legislature, and confining its powers and duties to those prescribed for it by the resolutions.

It is scarcely necessary to pause for the purpose of commenting on the practical inconveniences of some of these arrangements. However proper it may be, in a limited and republican government, to vest the power of declaring war in the legislative department, the negotiation of treaties by a numerous body had been found, in our own experience, and in that of other republics, extremely embarrassing. However wise may be a jealousy of the executive department, it is difficult to say that the same authority that is intrusted with the appointment to all other offices should not be permitted to make an ambassador or a judge. However august may be a proceeding that is to determine a boundary between sovereign States, it is nothing more and nothing less than a strictly judicial controversy, capable of trial in the ordinary forms and tribunals of judicature, besides being one that ought to be safely removed from all political influences. However necessary it may be that an impeachment should be conducted with the solemnities and safeguards of allegation and proof, it is not always to be decided by the rules with which judges are most familiar, or to be determined by that body of law which it is their special duty to administer. However desirable it may be, that an elective chief magistracy should be filled with the highest capacity and fitness, and that popular tumults should be avoided, no government has yet existed, in which the election of such a magistrate by the legislative department has afforded any decided advantage over an election directly or indirectly by the people; and to give a body constituted as the American Senate is a negative in the choice of the executive, would be certainly inconvenient, probably dangerous.

But the position of the Senate as an assembly of the States, and certain opinions of its superior fitness for the discharge of some of these duties, had united to make it far too powerful for a safe and satisfactory operation of the government. It was found to be impossible to adjust the whole machine to the quantity of power that had been given to one of its parts. It was eminently just and necessary that the States should have an equal and direct representation in some branch of the government; but that a majority of the States, containing a minority of the people, should possess a negative in the appointment of the executive, and in the question of peace or war, and the sole voice in the appointment of judges and ambassadors, was neither necessary nor proper. Theoretically, it might seem appropriate that a question of boundary between any two of the States represented in it should be committed to the Senate, as a court of the peers of the sovereign parties to the dispute; but practically, this would be a tribunal not well fitted to try a purely judicial question. It became necessary, therefore, to discover the true limit of that control which the nature of the representation in the Senate was to be allowed to give to a majority of the States. There had been some effort, in the progress of the controversy respecting the representative system, to confine the equal power of the States, in matters of legislation, to particular questions or occasions; but it had turned out to be impracticable thus to divide or limit the ordinary legislative authority of the same body. If the Senate, as an equal assembly of the States, was to legislate at all, it must legislate upon all subjects by the same rule and method of suffrage. But when the question presented itself as to the separate action of this assembly,—how far it should be invested with the appointment of other functionaries, how far it should control the relations of the country with foreign nations, how far it should partake both of executive and judicial powers,—it was much less difficult to draw the line, and to establish proper limits to the direct agency of the States. Those limits could not indeed be ascertained by the mere application of theoretical principles. They were to be found in the primary necessity for reposing greater powers in other departments, for adjusting the relations of the system by a wider distribution of authority, and for confiding more and more in the intelligence and virtue of the people; and therefore it is, that, in these as in other details of the Constitution, we are to look for the clew that is to give us the purpose and design, quite as much to the practical compromises which constantly took place between opposite interests, as to any triumph of any one of opposite theories.

The first experiment that was made towards a restriction of the power of the Senate, and an adjustment of its relations to the other departments, was the preparation of a plan, by which the President was to have the making of treaties, and the appointment of ambassadors, judges of the Supreme Court, and all other officers not otherwise provided for, by and with, the advice and consent of the Senate. The trial of impeachments, of the President included, was transferred to the Senate, and the trial of questions of boundary was placed, like other controversies between States, within the scope of the judicial power. The choice of the President was to be made in the first instance by electors appointed by each State, in such manner as its legislature might direct, each State to have a number of electors equal to the whole number of its senators and representatives in Congress; but if no one of the persons voted for should have a majority of all the electors, or if more than one person should have both a majority and an equal number of votes, the Senate were to choose the President from the five highest candidates voted for by the electors. In this plan, there was certainly a considerable increase of the power of the President; but there was not a sufficient diminution of the power of the Senate. The President could nominate officers and negotiate treaties; but he must obtain the consent of the body by whom he might have been elected, and by whom his re-election might be determined, if he were again to become a candidate. It appeared, therefore, to be quite necessary, either to take away the revisionary control of the Senate over treaties and appointments, or to devise some mode by which the President could be made personally independent of that assembly. He could be made independent only by taking away all agency of the Senate in his election, or by making him ineligible to the office a second time. There were two serious objections to the last of these remedies,—the country might lose the services of a faithful and experienced magistrate, whose continuance in office would be highly important; and even in a case where no pre-eminent merit had challenged a re-election, the effect of an election by the Senate would always be pernicious, and must be visible throughout the whole term of the incumbent who had been successful over four other competitors.

And after all, what necessity was there for confiding this vast power to the Senate, opening the door of a small body to the corruption and intrigue for which the magnitude of the prize to be gained and to be given, and the facility for their exercise, would furnish an enormous temptation? Was it so necessary that the States should force their equality of privilege and of power into every department of the Constitution, making it felt not only in all acts of legislation, but in the whole administration of the executive and judicial duties? Was nothing due to the virtue and sense and patriotism of a majority of the people of the United States? Might they not reasonably be expected to constitute a body of electors, who, chosen for the express purpose, and dissolved as soon as their function had been discharged, would be able to make an upright and intelligent choice of a chief magistrate from among the eminent citizens of the Union?

Questions like these, posterity would easily believe, without the clear record that has descended to them, must have anxiously and deeply employed the framers of the Constitution. They were to consider, not only what was theoretically fit and what would practically work with safety and success, but what would be accepted by the people for whom they were forming these great institutions. That people undoubtedly detested everything in the nature of a monarchy. But there was another thing which they hated with equal intensity, and that was an oligarchy. Their experience had given them quite as much reason for abhorring the one as the other. Such, at least, was their view of that experience. A king, it is true, was the chief magistrate of the mother country against which they had rebelled, against which they had fought successfully for their independence. The measures that drove them into that resistance were executed by the monarch; but those measures were planned, as they believed, by a ministry determined to enslave them, and were sanctioned by a Parliament in which even the so-called popular branch was then but another phase of the aristocracy which ruled the empire. The worst enemy our grandfathers supposed they had in England, throughout their Revolution, was the ministerial majority of that House of Commons, made up of placemen sitting for rotten boroughs, the sons of peers, and the country gentlemen, who belonged to a caste as much as their first-cousins who sat by titles in the House of Lords. Our ancestors did not know—they went to their graves without knowing—that in the hard, implacable temper of the king, made harder and more implacable by a narrow and bigoted conscientiousness, was the real cause for the persistency in that fatal policy which severed these Colonies from his crown.

That long struggle had been over for several years, and its result was certainly not to be regretted by the people of America. But it had left them, as it naturally must have left them, with as strong prejudices and jealousies against every aristocratic, as against every monarchical institution. Public liberty in England they knew might consist with an hereditary throne, and with a privileged and powerful aristocracy. But public liberty in America could consist with neither. The people of the United States could submit to restraints; they could recognize the necessity for checks and balances in the distribution of authority; and they understood as much of the science of government as any people then alive. But an institution,—however originating and however apparently necessary its peculiar construction might be,—embracing but a small number of persons, with power to elect the chief magistrate, with power to revise every appointment from a chief justice down to a tidewaiter, with power to control the President through his subordinate agents, with power to reject every treaty that he might negotiate, and with power to sit in judgment on his impeachment, they would not endure. "We have, in some revolutions of this plan of government," said Randolph, "made a bold stroke for monarchy. We are now doing the same for an aristocracy."

How to attain the true intermediate ground, to avoid the substance of a monarchy and the substance of an aristocracy, and yet not to found the system on a mere democracy, was a problem not easy of solution. All could see, that a government extended over a country so large, which was to have the regulation of its commerce, the collection of great revenues, the care of a vast public domain, the superintendence of intercourse with hordes of savage tribes, the control of relations with all the nations of the world, the administration of a peculiar jurisprudence, and the protection of the local constitutions from violence, must have an army and a navy, and great fiscal, administrative, and judicial establishments, embracing a very numerous body of public officers. To give the appointment of such a multitude of public servants, invested with such functions, to the unchecked authority of the President, would be to create an executive with power not less formidable and real than that of some monarchs, and far greater than that of others. No one desired that a sole power of appointment should be vested in the President alone; it was universally conceded that there must be a revisionary control lodged somewhere, and the only question was where it should be placed. That it ought to be in a body independent of the executive, and not in any council of ministers that might be assigned to him, was apparent; and there was no such body, excepting the Senate, which united the necessary independence with the other qualities needful for a right exercise of this power.